


The Beginning of an Ending

by Destroyingtocreate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Domestic Violence, Dreaming, Eating Disorders, Emotions, Hurt!Stiles, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destroyingtocreate/pseuds/Destroyingtocreate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is in an abusive relationship while he's away at college. When he finally goes home, he's in an accident, but he's home, with his father and pack. Stiles faces difficulties as he tries to leave behind his year of fear and loneliness.</p><p> </p><p>***Note there is descriptive writing of abuse and eating disorder. Please do not read if you're sensitive to these subjects.***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If Nothing Goes Right (Go Back)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really sure what made me want to write this fic, but its a really touchy subject matter to many people and I don't want to offend or make anyone fall into old habits. I'm always here for talking and you can message me on my tumblr, creatingsterek, if you ever want to talk.
> 
> This fic means a lot to me as I was mentally abused and occasionally physically abused as a child and this is kind of my way of letting that part of my life go.
> 
> I'm sorry if it offends anyone. It was never my intention to do.
> 
> This writing wasn't originally going to be published as it was somewhat a part of me, but I think everyone will enjoy it, so. Here. :)

The cool touch on his forearms helped him stay awake as he leaned forward into the porcelain bowl. Tears burning his eyes rolled down his cheeks and the pounding in his forehead made him want to die even more than normal. The burning, raw ache in his throat choked him, made him gag again before pushing away with his weak arms, slumping back, crashing painfully into the wall behind him. The pain from hitting the wall was barely existent even as the scratches in his back broke open, drops of blood gathered and ran down his back and smeared the wall in red.

He couldn't even muster a sob or even a little squeak as he looked at the toilet in front of him, vomit sticking to the sides where his fingers had brushed it after he'd shoved them down his throat. He felt better knowing there wasn't any food or calories in his stomach and he wouldn't wake in the morning with more broken bones and bruises.

After a few shaky breaths and a few failed attempts to stand, he held onto the sink to keep himself up. Looking in the mirror, he sighed and turned his head down to stare at his too small fingers, long and frail.

He knew what he was doing to himself, knew how much he was hurting himself. It didn't stop the voice, Tommy's voice in his head from screaming at him, telling him how terrible he was, how fat and disgusting He looked.

Stiles let the pounding in his skull take over his thoughts so he didn't have to listen to the worst, most painful thing he'd ever heard echo in his brain.

"Stiles?" The voice he cringed at, tried to avoid and not piss off, called to him.

"Yes?" He tried to talk, but it was only a whisper as his throat felt raw and the taste of metallic filled his mouth.

"Stiles!" The voice, demanding and menacing yelled loudly, almost a threat, laced its grasp on Stiles and made him stumble from the bathroom in search of the voice.

"There you are. I was wondering if you wanted dinner before I went out. I could call for takeout. A salad without dressing for you?"

Stiles nodded, knowing it was better he didn't talk, the bruise wrapped around his throat still a small dream of what happened when he did talk when not asked to.

"I'll go pick it up. I'll be twenty minutes."

He tried not to flinch from the rough lips smacking into his cheek as Tommy passed, but his eyes closed and his body tensed, but he did not move away.

Once he heard the door close, he stumbled and tripped his way to his room, avoiding crying out when his broken foot hit the wall, unlocking the safe he had under his bed, his sweaty fingers slipping a few times. He knew he only had a short amount of time to get out of there.

He shoved his laptop into his bag, his books dumped onto the floor in a heap, unimportant. The money he counted, $3,000 dollars less than he had a week prior, made him panic, but only for a second before seeing his moms necklace still hidden in the back of the safe still tucked in the box. He remembered he had spent the money himself, not Tommy. He grabbed all of his important things from the safe and put it in his bag before breaking his cell phone in half and throwing it on the bed, the only mess in the entire house, a sign to Tommy.

Dizziness overtook him, making him hesitate getting into his jeep, only a promise he would eat once he was out of town getting him to climb in and dig for the spare hidden in the fabric of the underside in the passenger seat.

He knew that was the only key he'd be able to find, Tommy taking the other two keys with him wherever he went, not giving Stiles the opportunity to leave.

Stiles gripped the key hard in his palm when he found it, wanting to cry for the first time in months as he kissed the key and shoved it into the ignition and listened to the jeep sputter and spurt before coming to life.

He pulled out of the driveway, cutting off a car and speeding away, leaving himself to sigh once he was away from the neighborhood.

He wanted to call Scott, tell him he was on his way home, but remembered he had broken his phone before he left. Once he was a good forty minutes away from the house, he stopped at a restaurant and grabbed his first cheese burger and fries he'd had in the year since he'd been away from Beacon hills. Once he got his order to go, not even waiting to get to the parking lot before tearing into the bag, he shoved fries into his mouth, popping the hood on his jeep.

Not really wanting to let go of his burger in case it would disappear, he tucked it under the seat. Stiles moved a few things around and pulled out the tracker in his jeep, throwing it on the ground and making sure it was demolished before tearing out of the parking lot and getting as far away as he could.

~~~~~

He relaxed the further he drove, hours away from the monster. He was exhausted, his lids becoming heavy as the highway spread out in front of him. He refused to pull over, the thought of Tommy finding him kept him going until he reached Beacon Hills.

He let his lips pull up at the corners as he saw the sign on the highway: Beacon Hills, 42 miles.

It was the closest he'd been to home since he had moved away and he wanted to drive faster, drive straight to his dads and hug him with everything he had. Tears, the first real ones he'd shed in a long time, blurred his vision making him unable to see the car merge in front of him. Stiles cursed as he blinked and seen the car stomp on the breaks.

Stiles knew he was going much faster than the speed limit and he only heard the smashing and crunching of metal on metal, glass exploding and raining down on him as his car flipped once and landed at the end of a small hill at the side of the road. He blinked once, colors being the only thing he could make out before his eyes closed and his hearing, the screams and cries of a woman, dying down, barely anything as he faded into unconscious.

~~~~~

He snapped his eyes open, knowing if he didn't get out of bed, Tommy would know and kick him in the stomach like he did every time Stiles slept in late. He tried to push himself up, but he didn't have the energy.

"Son?"

Stiles tried to turn his neck too quickly toward the voice, but cried as the pain shot through him.

"Don't move. It's okay. I'm here, son. Your dads here."

Stiles felt a hand petting his hair down, the voice soothing him down from the panic pumping his heart harder. He blinked a few times, trying to fight off sleep, trying desperately to listen to his dads voice before he woke up to the nightmare of him not being there.

~~~~~

He blinked slowly, not wanting to wake up to feel the pain his body would be in, not ready to be beaten down for sleeping in too long.

"Stiles?"

Stiles held his eyes open, light shining through the window on the door, no lights to hurt his eyes in the room. As the figure stepped into his vision, he tried to smile to help wipe the scared and almost frightened look off his best friends face.

"Let me go get your dad."

Stiles closed his eyes, only resting them until his dad showed up. He didn't want to think about why Scott or his dad were around or why his head had such a terrible ache. Stiles didn't want to know why his left arm was so sweaty. He didn't want to think about anything, just wanted to see his dad, hold him, feel him, know he was alive and well.

"Stiles? Son," he could hear his dads shaky voice talking, so he pushed his eyes open to look.

"Dad," Stiles tried, but his throat was raw, coughing taking over his body as the coughs moved his entire body.

"Don't talk, son. Your throat, you," his dad had trouble talking. "It's torn. You'll only make it worse by talking."

Silence filled the room and Stiles stopped coughing and his dad stared at him, their hands laced together. The touch of his dad made Stiles feel safe, the first time he'd felt that way in a long time.

"I want you to listen to what I have to say and you have no right to object or disagree because I'm your father and I know what's best for you. Do you understand?"

Stiles tried smiling again to let his dad know he was listening to anything and everything the man said.

"You'll be here for awhile. You're in Beacon Hills, at the hospital. You were in a car incident. Do you remember?" Stiles barely moved his head, the neck brace holding it still. "The doctors, you have a concussion and you broke your left arm. It was crushed by the door as it flipped over. You were going over 85 miles an hour when you crashed into the car in front of you. It was stopped for traffic reasons which you hadn't seen the signs for. They said you," his dad stopped and the pain flashing in his eyes made Stiles want to cry like a little boy who had seen monsters in his closet.

"You're malnourished, haven't been eating properly. The doctors say you're lucky to be alive from how frail your bones are. Your esophagus is going to take time to heal from your... Your eating issues which you will be seeing a councilor for. And the bruises, the one on your throat, your already broken foot, multiple bones, that's not from the accident, is it?"

Stiles watched his dad for a moment, knowing he can trust him but almost afraid to say anything. He shook his head no as much as he could move it, letting the pain protest, wanting his dad to know the truth.

"The cuts and welts on your back, those aren't from the accident either."

It was a statement, a fact his father already knew the truth to. 

There was silence between the two again. Stiles let his dad play sheriff, let him figure out all the facts, let him try to guess what happened.

"There's a boy, dark hair, scar on his forehead, he's here to see you. Said you disappeared and tried to find you, but..."

The look on Stiles' face made his dad stop talking.

"Were you being abused, Stiles?"

Stiles stayed quiet, the thought of Tommy finding him silenced him.

"If he did Stiles, you can tell me. I'll handle it, get this mess straightened out. If he's the one that hurt you, I can get him sent away."

"Don't let him find me," he whispered as best as he could.

He was frightened for his life, feeling threatened in his own town. His dads eyes fell sad as he stared down at his broken son, then switched to determined as he squeezed Stiles' hand and told Stiles not to be scared before he left him alone in his room.

For awhile, Stiles could only stare at the oak stained door waiting for his dad to get back. He knew his father was a cop, could kill Tommy with a quick finger, but his dad didn't know what Tommy was capable of and Stiles sat worried for his dads health.

Tommy could play mind games, trick someone with a quick slide of the tongue and a cute smile that made you fall to your knees in a heartbeat. Stiles knew the steps and rhythms of how he worked, how his lies twisted and could take you down with the right combinations of words.

"Stiles," a knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"I can come back later if-"

"It's fine," Stiles lipped, a smile, foreign to his face, shakily made its way to him.

"You look... Good."

"Isaac," Stiles whispered, trying to be serious, almost asking why he was there with his tone.

"Derek asked me to see how you were doing. You've been in the hospital a few days. He had to take care of- he had business to take care of."

Stiles looked at Isaac, just stared. He knew Isaac, had even become friends before he left. He had missed the pack while he was gone, but when he had thought of them while he'd been away, the sadder he got, more scared Tommy could read his thoughts, almost paranoid of it, so he didn't think of them often.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say to you, from the entire pack, we're glad you're okay, Stiles. We missed you and we all hope you will stay around awhile before you leave again."

Stiles wanted to say something, a million things he wanted to ask, but couldn't as his throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut as Isaac took some pain from him, the black lines filling Isaac's veins.

Stiles hadn't been feeling much pain, the hospital medications keeping him numb from feeling his broken and abused body.

He relaxed into his bed, not as rigid and uptight as Isaac let go. Something changed slightly as Isaac walked toward the door. Stiles knew that his issue with Tommy was barely a problem as he laid in the bed. He knew that his pack, even if he hadn't been in touch with them, were still his pack. They would take care of him, make his problems less. He knew someone still had his back even if he had felt alone, forgotten the entire time he'd been away from home.

"Stiles, it'll be okay."

His eyes shut before he could see Derek slip in and take more of his pain away, letting him relax into his sleep for the first time.

"I'm glad you're back, Stiles," Derek whispered quietly with a quick brush of his fingers over Stiles' cheek before backing away and leaving without anyone knowing he was there.

=======

Tommy stepped painfully onto his foot with his steel toed work boots, the bones crushing made Stiles cry out, the burning of pain making his eyes water as Tommy's foot crushed and twisted above his.

"I told you not to touch him," Tommy whispered aggressively into his ear. "You're a fat cow. He wouldn't want you and your filth. You're a disappointment to everyone. He can see it, see how much of a failure you are."

Tommy pushed Stiles painfully into the wall. The weak board giving way under him, slashing bits of wood into his back.

"And you're so lucky, Stiles. You are so damn lucky you have me because I won't leave you. I accept your failure and I understand it."

With the final kick to the stomach, Stiles looked into Tommy's eyes, letting that broken rule of no eye contact unless asked be the last thing Stiles ever saw as the last blow to his stomach knocked him out.

~~~~~~

Stiles woke to a dark room, the blind on the door drawn shut to keep light out. The blinds to the city outside were open and he turned his head painfully, the brace removed sometime in his sleep, to look out the window.

The moon, only two days to the full moon, lit up his room and cast dark shadows against the wall. Stiles knew they were only shadows, but he still cringed away from them expecting one to be someone who was ready to beat him if he moved too much.

A knock on the door made him look over with a small jolt of his body.

"Stiles?"

Scott slipped in, crushing Stiles into him when he saw him awake. Stiles whimpered and let his body sag like a rag doll at the painful touch.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." Scott sucked some of his pain away before moving away from him. "I'm just so happy to see you."

"Water?" Stiles whispered.

"I'll have to get my mom. I heard you aren't really allowed to swallow anything. I'll be right back."

Stiles sat still for a minute trying to punish himself for flinching at his best friends touch. He knew he shouldn't have, knew Scott wouldn't hurt him, but he still flinched away.

When the door opened again, Stiles burst into tears at hearing Tommy's voice in the hall, yelling.

"Stiles, its okay. Stiles," Mrs. McCall tried to calm him.

Her touching his arm gently made him flinch away, his arm protesting in the movement. He let his tears be shown as he cried to her, sobbing as he listened to Tommy's voice in the hall. It was muffled, but he still could hear the tormenting monster.

"He can't get in here, Stiles. He won't hurt you again. I promise."

After a few minutes, there was a click of the lock as someone turned a key on the outside which made Stiles jump and Tommy's voice fading as he was pulled away by security.

"Water? Do you still want some?"

~~~~~~

A week and a half of being cooped up in the hospital made Stiles antsy, three weeks if you counted the days he slept away when he first arrived. He had finally gotten a meal to eat, a psychologist watching him closely to make sure he didn't throw it away.

"What made you decide to not eat, Stiles?"

"I wasn't allowed to," his voice still a whisper, still too delicate to use at full volume.

He tried the fast approach to eating, to shove it down his neck as his stomach grumbled, but he just threw it up as his stomach couldn't handle it all at the same time. After another tray arrived with food, he ate at a much slower rate.

"Was it a voice inside your own head saying you couldn't eat?"

"No," Stiles stated simply, not wanting to talk about it at all, but his dad, one of the only ones he trusted, told him he needed to, made him at least force some type of response out.

"What was it then? What made you not eat? What told you you weren't allowed to eat?"

Stiles looked at the man, tall and skinny, much similar to how Stiles looked before he turned into a bag of bones, but with graying hair and wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. After a few minutes of staring at each other, Stiles deemed him safe enough to talk to. Stiles didn't feel like joking, almost didn't know how to as he talked seriously to the man.

"Tommy... Wouldn't feed me for a few days, called me fat.... Sit in the bathroom with me, made me throw up.... Stuck his own," Stiles stopped and swallowed, Squeezing his eyes closed as if the images would disappear. "..fingers down my throat."

Stiles didn't have an appetite after he started talking, nauseous, but he took a bite of potatoes anyway as a response to the demand he was given of eating.

"So, this Tommy, is he someone inside your head? Or a friend?"

"He is, was," Stiles struggled through the words, trying not to panic as he spoke. "My roommate, my...was my boyfriend."

"How did you meet Tommy?"

Stiles watched the man write something down as he scooped some jello from the plastic container, barely knowing what he was doing as he mushed it slowly and swallowed.

"At the coffee shop... Worked there...thought he was cute, so I asked him out."

"Did this Tommy abuse you?"

"You didn't hear about it from someone else? I could hear the night staff whispering about my case last night. Everyone knows about the abused boy who tried to run away, but almost got himself killed, like it was his mission to die in a car crash," Stiles tried to be angry, but his voice only made him sound sad and weak, like the broken boy that he was.

"And did you try to kill yourself?"

"I was trying to come home to see my dad, to get away."

"To get away from Tommy?"

"Yes," Stiles answered trying to not be a sarcastic asshole to the man, angry that this man wouldn't leave him alone, wouldn't let the memories fade like Stiles tried to let them.

He had started out talking truthfully to the man, but as he kept asking such basic, robotic questions, Stiles could feel a small piece of himself resurface. It wasn't totally the mans fault. Stiles had been in the hospital too many days, staring at the same scenery and listening to the same things on TV, reliving the same memories from the past year. He wanted to run away from his thoughts, from the hospital that made the memories stick behind his eyelids. His dad told him he would try to get his laptop from the evidence locker since it wasn't destroyed in the accident.

Stiles had smiled an honest to God smile, real and bigger than he had in months as he thanked his dad with a whisper.

"Why was there so much money in your backpack? Did you steal it? Were you in a cult?" The man sitting beside him asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Other than the part where Stiles felt like he was being interrogated, the question of money caught him off guard.

"Where did it come from?"

"Saved it all."

"Why didn't you put it in a bank account?"

"...Tommy... would've found out..."

"I think that's enough for today, Stiles. You did good. Don't forget to eat your bread. I'll be around if you need anything before our next visit."

Stiles sighed in relief when the man left, but sighed again in annoyance when Derek slipped in after him.

Stiles had seen Derek every night for a week, happy to see him for some odd reason, but he didn't want Derek to know that. The first night Stiles had seen Derek, he coward in fear, afraid of what he was going to say to him, maybe kick him out of the pack, tell him to leave the area again. So many thoughts had sent Stiles into a panic attack.

"You're eating," Derek stated.

"Mhmm."

Derek stood just inside the door, looking at Stiles without saying anything for a moment. Stiles worked on finishing his food so everyone would be satisfied.

"Are you going to come in and sit down or..." Stiles gestured to the chair, turning the tv on to help block some of their talking from the nurses in the hall.

Derek slowly worked his way to sitting besides Stiles' bed. Stiles noticed that it was almost hesitant and slow like he didn't want to hurt or frighten Stiles. Everyone had been acting like that toward Stiles and he almost wanted to stab a knife into his eyes so he didn't have to watch it anymore. He hated people cautiously stepping around him. He wasn't completely broken and fragile, although it felt like that sometimes.

"Stop." Stiles said, not really wanting to speak up, but doing so because he was sick of everyone treating him like a doll.

"Stop what?" Derek said after a moment.

"Acting like I'm fragile. I don't... it's just... I'm not fragile. I'm..."

But he was to a certain point broken. He knew that. He knew that he wasn't normal. It was all just not right. Everything he was going through. He didn't know what to say or do or anything. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, unable to unscramble them that he missed everything Derek had said. He stared at Derek who blinked and then spoke.

"I brought you something," Derek managed to say before thrusting his hand out to give him his gift.

"Reese's?" Stiles wasn't sure it was safe for him to eat seeing as he had a special list of foods we was allowed to have.

Stiles ripped open the package anyway and began to eat a cup slowly, letting the chocolate melt on his tongue. He only worried about the amount of calories, 210, for a second before working on his second cup.

"The nurse said it was okay. Do you want more?" Derek asked, pulling a second package from his leather jacket.

Stiles made grabby hands at the chocolate peanut butter cups like he was a child. Derek handed them over, letting his hand brush Stiles' fingers.

"Don't eat them too fast. You'll get sick." Derek warned.

"The pack will be happy to hear you are talking again."

"Barely..." Stiles mumbled, wishing he wasn't afraid of everything. 

"It's better than the silence everyone heard all week. They were worried you'd never talk again."

After a second he added,"you aren't Stiles without your blabbering mouth."

Stiles looked at Derek for a moment, looked at how his eyebrows weren't quite so... Broody and his eyes looked slightly more happy, like his entire life wasn't about killing supernatural beings, only 97% of it being for that. He looked at Derek's stubble, still so similar to the way it had always been on the man with his leather jacket and black jeans. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Derek asked.

"Just missed you. I missed you all."

The sadness that came over Stiles made him want to cry at seeing all of his friends again. He had almost given up hope that they would take him back when he finally did get to go home. He had been away for so long without contact, he had thought they forgot about him, just another broom in the closet.

"Why didn't you get ahold of us? You know we would've come to help you."

Stiles wanted to talk about Derek and how he was talking more, not even angry. He was being civil and like a normal person, it almost scared Stiles. He almost didn't want to say anything to Derek, but a part of him, some piece of Stiles unconscious mind found Derek to be okay. That anything he said to Derek wouldn't hurt him.

"I wasn't allowed to. He knew everything."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"Wait so long to leave? Planning, college, classes. I had a life." Stiles paused for a long time, barely able to keep the tears that threatened to spill back. "It was the hardest thing to do."

"I heard he was the one that hurt you, that Tommy guy. He broke your foot."

The name, poison sliding into his ears, made him flinch.

"He has power over you still and he's not even here."

"You weren't there to see."

"Stiles," Derek almost pleaded with him just by saying his name.

"Derek, I don't want to talk about it."

"I want you to talk about it with me. I want to understand."

Stiles watched Derek closely for a minute knowing for a fact Derek would never ask unless he had to. He also knew Derek was wearing a wire, could see the outline under his tight shirt, but Stiles didn't say anything.

"Please, Stiles," Derek asked quietly.

"If I tell you the whole story, do you promise I don't have to tell the story ever again? I don't want to relive it, Derek."

"I promise."

Derek's voice sounded sincere, almost understanding of the need to never want to think of it again, so Stiles nodded at him and played with his thumbs, trying to keep his food in his stomach as it rolled in fear of his memories pushing forward to be told He didn't trust anyone, not his best friend Scott, not his father, and definitely not Derek, but he knew he needed to let it go, the someone else have the memories too, so they weren't just his burden alone. And he knew if he didn't tell his story soon, no one would know. The doctors, his psychologist, they continuously tell him he is still in shock, always whispering about how okay Stiles is with the events and it is scary. Sure the memories are hard, but Stiles isn't stupid and he knows about patients with shock. He knows it's only a short time until his mind and body can't take it. He needs to tell them what happened.


	2. Telling is the Hardest Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tells Derek a little about his life away from Beacon Hills and its not at all glamorous and how college should go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that I was abused and I was, but never as bad as some of the descriptions in this chapter.

"Welcome to Premium Roasts. What can I get for you?" Stiles asked the man with a smile, his first day on the job easy as he liked talking and smiling.

"Surprise me," the voice, seductive and sweet as it was deep and almost a growl like sourwolf, but without the eyebrows and frowns, said.

Stiles made the man his personal favorite drink, Arabian bean coffee with a hint of caramel and a hint of vanilla with a lot less sugar than Stiles would put in his own drink. He wrote in sharpie his own name before handing it over.

"Thank you... Stiles."

The curve of the mans lips made his knees weak as he fumbled to take his money and give back change.

"Do you-" Stiles cleared his throat as his voice was too squeaky. "Do you want to maybe grab dinner together some night?"

"I'd love to. I'll be back tomorrow to get details. Bye, Stiles."

"Bye..."

"Tommy."

~~~~~

Stiles fumbled to button his shirt as he was nervous for his date. He'd been on a hundred dates since his junior year of high school, but he wanted this one to be different.

His phone singing Howlin' For You made him jump before he slammed his finger in his dresser and tried not to swear as he answered his phone.

"Hey, Derek."

"Stiles, where are you?"

The panic in Derek's voice had made him stop digging for a pair of clean socks.

"I'm in my dorm room. Why?"

"Stay there tonight. Lock the doors."

Stiles stood confused for a moment, almost scared to ask why, but he was hours away from Beacon Hills, so he could go out on his date before any signs of supernatural trouble could tear his whole world apart again.

"I'm going on a date. I'll be back inside by 9:30. Nothing is going to happen."

And Stiles fully believed every word he told Derek, ignoring his protests to go out.

~~~~~

The next two months were full of dates after his successful first with Tommy. The man, a sophomore at the college he went to, bought Stiles gifts all the time, spoiling him senseless. The more time Stiles spent with him, the more he fell in love. The two spent every moment they had with one another, meeting up whenever they had a spare moment available.

After three months, Tommy asked Stiles to move into his house with him telling him it was paid for and he wouldn't have to worry. Stiles agreed with little hesitation, seeing how perfect the man was and loved the way he was treated.

The first few nights of staying together were the last few good days Stiles saw of Tommy.

~~~~~~

"Stiles, where are my keys?" Tommy lifted the papers off the coffee table to search under them.

"I put them on the counter so I had more space to put my stuff."

Tommy stared down at Stiles with narrow eyes and Stiles looked up guilty after a second.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you I moved them. It would've saved you time."

"What other things of mine did you touch?"

"Nothing." Stiles answered.

"Stiles," Tommy's voice turned different, almost scary to Stiles since he'd never seen a look that dark on the man.

"I swear. I just moved the things on the coffee table to put my stuff down."

"So, you touched my mail, too."

"I guess. It's on the counter next to your keys."

Stiles let out a throaty noise as Tommy grabbed his face tight in his hand, pulling him closer to himself. Stiles stared wide eye at the man trying not to say something sarcastic to get him in more trouble. He was stunned anyway, heart racing fast as he saw a different side of Tommy.

"Don't lie to me, Stiles. I don't like liars. And don't touch my things," Tommy said in a low voice.

Tommy pushed Stiles' face away from him and left without saying another word. Stiles rubbed his bruised cheeks once the front door closed, afraid to move before then.

~~~~~~

It only got worse after that, the bruises of all shapes and colors splattered across his body. His clothes hid more of them except the ones on his face and throat, but he kept his head down for the most part and kept a container of makeup in his glove compartment so he could cover what was most noticeable.

After a few weeks of hard touches and painful slaps, the physical part wasn't the only scarring thing Stiles had to deal with.

At exactly 147 pounds, Stiles knew he wasn't exactly fat, but Tommy made him feel like he was, saying a rude comment about how many calories were in whatever Stiles nibbled on, Tommy throwing away half of Stiles' dinner even if he wasn't done telling him he was better off not finishing it.

 

"If you eat that, you're a fat pig, Stiles. I'm just trying to help you out."

From there, it was a constant nagging and consistent beatings over whatever Tommy didn't find satisfying. Stiles learned the hard way that he shouldn't ask for anything unless Tommy offered him the opportunity to ask.

After Tommy broke his wrist, Stiles knew not to look him directly in the eye or ask him to do anything for him without being asked.

~~~~~~

Stiles got his phone taken away and his keys taken after seven months of being with Tommy. He wasn't allowed to drive anywhere unless Tommy needed something with a threat that if he told anyone or did anything unusual, he would break his fingers. There had been an occasion where three of his fingers had broken after he used his cell phone for calling his father without permission.

There was only a certain number of minutes he was allowed to be gone at a time. If he was to go to class, he found he only had 15 minutes to be at his next class or in the house. If he went over, Tommy knew and would push him around. If he went to the store, he had 35 minutes. The only reason Stiles knew was by pushing his limit until Tommy didn't find it acceptable.

He wasn't allowed to talk with anyone or look at anyone. If someone so much as brushed against his arm, Tommy knew.

Tommy didn't like the way Stiles looked either. He told Stiles everyday even as he started to lose weight, down to 128 by the time Tommy started taking Stiles into the bathroom and made him throw up after every meal. Tommy would watch, made sure it was a satisfying amount in the toilet. If it wasn't enough, Tommy put his own fingers down Stiles' throat with a painful and bruising grip of his face.

Stiles started getting weak and too tired to go to classes, but he handed in his homework everyday, essays to the exact directions in the emails from his teachers. He got up at the exact time Tommy told him and cleaned the house even with broken and beaten limbs, not a spot anywhere.

Some days Stiles cried from the amount of pain that ached and throbbed through his body, but he couldn't take more, so he cleaned until Tommy was satisfied.

~~~~~~

"I saw you at the coffee shop," Tommy didn't look up from his lasagna as Stiles picked at his salad. "I thought I told you to class and home."

"What? Now I can enjoy coffee? I stayed in your time limits and even used my own money," Stiles mouthed off to him, angry he wasn't allowed to do anything.

"Are you talking back to me? Do you forget who's paying for you to live here? Who pays for everything you need to live?"

Stiles woke up to a black eye and three cracked ribs the next morning with no memory of what happened to him after he talked back to him.

~~~~~~

"Tommy?" Stiles hesitated to talk further until he had permission.

"Stiles?" Tommy pulled on his shirt.

"Do you think I could call my dad? I want to talk to him."

"You talked with him for a whole ten minutes last month. Don't you think that's enough? God, he probably hates you enough as it is."

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded.

"You're right. I just wanted to tell him how my finals went. I'm sorry."

Stiles watched his fingers curl in his lap, disappointment almost crushing him as bad as Tommy jumping on his rib cage.

"I'm going out. Stay in the house."

~~~~~~

Stiles wasn't sure how he snuck the lock box into the house without Tommy knowing, but he had managed to do it.

Tommy had sent him to Lowe's for a bucket of paint for the living room. While he was getting the paint color Tommy wanted, he had the man at the counter make up a key to hide and bought the safe to put his valuable items in.

He took all of his money out of the squeaking floorboard Tommy was getting suspicious of and out it in the safe under the bed. He had over $18,000 in it along with a few possessions he didn't want Tommy to ever find knowing he'd take them away.

~~~~~

With only one month left until he was done with his first year of school, he planned on how to escape, planned a way to leave Tommy, but he wasn't sure how he would do it until he had the chance.

And when he took his chance to leave, he ended up in the hospital talking to Derek Hale about his shitty life away from home.


	3. Family is Key

"Stiles," the sorrow in Derek's voice made Stiles look at him since the time he started talking.

Derek's eyes said more than Derek had spoken in the three, almost four, years Stiles had known him and it made Stiles take a shaky breath. He wasn't sure how to interpret Derek's new facial feature.

"It's fine. It's over now." He didn't even believe his own words.

Stiles looked down at his arm, white plaster covered in an orange sleeve. It only hurt when he tried to lift something, his wrist broken as well as four of his fingers. He didn't want to know how many things were inside of his flesh holding his arm together, the thought making him queazy.

"It's not fine, Stiles. It isn't."

The anger in Derek's voice sounded so similar to Tommy's and Stiles couldn't stop himself from whimpering like he was going to get beaten and shifted away from Derek.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... It isn't right that he did that to you. You didn't deserve any of it, Stiles. You were fine the way you were. You didn't need to change."

"I know...wish I had gotten away sooner, but my scholarship," Stiles whispered.

"There would have been plenty more and I'm sure the school would've understood. I wish you had told someone that bastard was hurting you. I wish you had told me."

The last part came out so quietly Stiles almost didn't hear him, but he did and he didn't know whether to be angry Derek was telling him it would've been fine or to feel awkward that Derek cared at all. It wasn't like Derek had cared before he left seeing as Derek always pushed him around, his forehead finding its way to the steering wheel often enough or his back forced into the wall.

"Since when do you care, Derek?" Stiles asked quietly to him, just a simple question with so little feeling, yet so much meaning put into it.

"I always cared, Stiles. You're pack. Always were and always will be."

Stiles couldn't help it. He had to stare at Derek in disbelief, find any hint, any movement, that showed he was lying, but the longer he stared, the more he realized Derek was serious. It unsettled Stiles' stomach.

"I want to rest now. I don't feel very well."

Stiles fluffed his pillow with his right hand, turning his body slowly to his side as his sore, bruised muscles protested.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

Stiles flinched when Derek's hand laid on his arm, the warmth making him shiver as he didn't have enough blankets in the cold room. Derek drew some of his pain he didn't know was so strong before Derek walked to the door to leave.

"Stiles, I won't let him near you again. It's a promise."

~~~~~~

"Why were you late getting home today?" Tommy asked like it was as simple as asking what the weather was like that day, but Stiles knew what was coming and he tried to not move too fast or talk out of turn.

"There was construction on the side of the road."

Stiles swallowed hard and pushed his potatoes around on his plate, the first bit of starch he'd had in months. Tommy nodded and Stiles thought he was off the hook.

"I remembered seeing signs, but it shouldn't have taken twenty extra minutes."

"I'm sorry. I thought I would pick up more shampoo. I know you hate the Pert."

Stiles knew it was an understatement to say he hated the shampoo. Stiles had seen the bruises, yellowed and painful down to the muscle on his back.

"I didn't ask you to do that for me. Thank you."

Stiles looked at Tommy almost shocked. He never got a thank you from the man. Tommy smiled at him before looking down at his plate to chase a stray pea.

Stiles cleaned quickly in the kitchen after dinner, not leaving any spots to piss off Tommy when he was in such a good mood.

"I was thinking we could go see a movie. Do you want to?" Tommy stood in the doorway, typing away at his phone.

"If you want to."

Tommy was quiet for a moment and Stiles' heart picked up the more he stayed quiet. He prayed he hadn't said the wrong thing.

"I'm thinking we should. Find your shoes."

Stiles hurried to slip his shoes on and got into the car. The movie, one he had wanted to see, lifted his dimming hopes just slightly. Tommy held his hand in the theater, leaning in to kiss his cheek a few times as Stiles watched the screen closely.

On the way home, they shared a few laughs and smiles as they talked. Stiles knew not to talk too much, but Tommy encouraged him and he spoke more in the eighteen minutes headed home than any other time in the moths he'd been there.

When they arrived home, Tommy pushed Stiles to the floor without warning, barely closing the door behind him and leaned over him. He didn't say anything as he punched Stiles in the face twice before disappearing out the door again.

Stiles laid on the floor for the longest time as he tried to push away his panic.

~~~~~

"Dad, did you find my computer?" Stiles asked the moment his father opened the door to walk in.

"Stiles?"

Stiles took a deep breath already knowing he was going to get one of his lectures before he got to go on his laptop. He could hear it in his dads voice just by saying his name.

"Don't huff and puff at me. I just want to make sure you aren't doing anything online that is going to make you... relapse. Your friend Danny set up a system or other to keep it safe for you. He's monitoring it."

Stiles nodded, understanding where his dad was coming from, but wanted to roll his eyes at the extra protection. He knew he had been through a lot and he was already being watched 24/7 by the nursing staff, he didn't need it from Danny, too.

"I also snuck in some burgers. Thought we could have dinner before I went to the station."

Stiles smiled as much as he could at his dad. His fingers itched to get on his computer, but wanted to spend time with his dad more.

After a few minutes of silence, Stiles decided to speak.

"My doctor thinks it would help me if I talked about it, but..."

"You don't need to, son. Only if you want to and are ready."

"I had a dream last night, two actually. The one was... But the second, it was when you and I went fishing for my ninth birthday. You let me use your fishing pole and instead of dropping it into the pond like I had, I caught a fish and that's what we had for dinner, except Scott came over and ate it."

"I remember. Your mother got me that pole for Christmas. Didn't even have it a year."

"Do you think we could go fishing when I get out of here?" Stiles looked at his dad hopeful.

The moment he said it and seen his dads face, he regretted it.

"You know you'll be in the hospital awhile."

"I know." Stiles didn't mean to sound so disappointed.

"But when you do, we are going. But I'm getting you a different, much cheaper, pole." His dad tried to cheer him up a little.

Stiles smiled again and asked if he had brought curly fries with him. He only managed to eat a quarter of his burger and a few fries before he became too full, almost bursting at the seams. He set it to the side for when he got hungry again, sick of the hospital jello and cut up, dried chicken strips.

"Scott said he was going to stop by sometime today with Allison. And then Isaac Lahey texted me about him and Erica, Boyd stopping by for a 'quick second, not too long'. Lydia left me a message saying I couldn't stop her or Jackson from coming and Jackson won't come without Danny."

"So, the entire pack is coming to see me today." Stiles wasn't even surprised.

"Only if you want them here. Don't take on too much at one time. Derek told me to tell you he might not be able to make it. Said there was something about suspicious activity at the edge of the preserve. He'll stop by if he can."

Stiles didn't want to be disappointed by Derek not coming, but he was. He had spent more time with Derek than any of the other pack members, even Scott, since he'd woken up in the hospital. Derek was good company when he was nice enough to hold a conversation with and he didn't ask too many questions or comment on how bad he looked. Derek just sat in the chair, let Stiles talk if he wanted, or not. He wasn't one to push anything and Stiles liked that.

"I'll be by in the morning, son. I love you."

His dad kissed him, careful around the stitches on top of his buzzed head.

"Love you, too, dad," Stiles tried to hug him back, but pulling his right arm around his dad stretched his cut and bruised back more than he liked.

Once his dad left, he had time to kill. He played his Sims game for awhile since the Internet did not work in his room. He laughed to himself after making a Derek Sim and a fat green Sim and making them kiss.

"Are you okay for me to visit?" A knock at the door caught his attention from Derek and Bailey the Green Lady, her full name, making out in front of the tv.

"No, you need to leave."

Stiles smiled up at Scott standing in the doorway. Scott walked in with Allison in tow. She smiled a small smile at him, but didn't say anything as she looked Stiles over, almost cataloging his injuries.

"You're looking bett- how are you feeling? I mean, what have you been doing?"

"You don't need to try and change the subject ten times. I know you aren't suppose to indirectly or directly ask anything that has to do with... But it's fine. I'm feeling a little better, but they still won't let me eat chicken wings."

"I don't think you need chicken wings. You look like you need about ten pizzas and 50 of the fattest burgers in town."

"I'm working on one for now."

Scott looked down at his best friend slightly worried, but tried to smile to reassure Stiles. Stiles wanted to slap Scott for that look.

"How bad do I look, honestly?"

Stiles really hated being serious all the time, but being a sarcastic teenage boy wasn't a thing he remembered too well it was almost as foreign to him as Arabic. And there was nothing better to Stiles than honesty from his best friend. He felt so fake sitting in that hospital bed. He had to force words to exit his throat, almost choking on them each time he spoke. He didn't want to keep things from his family, his pack, so he tried to talk, but every word felt like the biggest lie, the hardest sentences he spoke in all his years.

"Do you know how much you weigh? Or how black and purple your skin looks? You don't look healthy."

"Most of the bruising isn't as bad as it was. You guys take enough pain, all of you coming in and out of here so often. And the doctor said as of this morning I weigh 109 pounds. Which is 11 more than I had weighed."

"Stiles," Scott had never sounded so lost, so pained and hurt in his life., even when Allison broke up with him for the first time. "I hope you get better soon. You're my best friend. And my brother. I can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, buddy. Who else would call you an idiot repeatedly?" The joke was too serious to be playful.

Scott lifted one side of his face in a smile that made Stiles smile back as best as he could. Even though they weren't freshmen in high school, Scott still looked like an innocent puppy that Stiles just wanted to squeeze.

"Room for three more?"

Stiles looked up to see Isaac pushing into the room with Erica and Boyd close behind.

"Exude me, but that's six more."

Lydia came crashing in and leaning over Stiles to kiss his cheek gently. He tried not to flinch from her, but it wasn't easy to stop when every time someone came to close to him in the last year, it was to give him a bruise or broken bone.

"I brought you something. Jackson, show him."

Jackson mumbled something under his breath, but moved closer to Stiles to show him the vase of flowers, big, expensive flowers.

"I thought they'd liven up the room from all these sad cards and white walls."

"Thanks Lydia. Thank you to you all. I know..." Stiles stopped to swallow and think about what he wanted to say. He used to have so many words, but they weren't rattling around in his mind like they once had.

"I know I wasn't the best pack member when I was away." Stiles stopped to take a breath. "I was scared to come back, honestly. I didn't know if any of you would take me back. I'm just really glad to see you all here."

"Stiles," Allison talked for the first time. "Pack means a lot more than you think it does. It doesn't just stop when you leave. It's always there."

The group nodded at her words and Jackson opened his mouth to talk.

"I hate these guys and they still keep me around."

"You're like," Isaac started. "You're like pack mom, Stiles. We wouldn't be a pack without you."

"We're all here to get you better and make you come home because we love you," Erica said.

"She's right, Stiles," Lydia nodded. "We barely survived with you gone and honestly, I don't think this pack can survive if you leave again. You should have seen us. We were a mess. Meetings were a nightmare, if we had them at all and no one was there to smack the boys when they hogged the snacks."

Stiles looked at each one of them as they talked and tried not to squeeze out his emotions in front of them. He had missed each one of them, even Jackson, more than anything. There were no words to describe how miserable he had been when he thought about the pack, how he cried for months over them, before his tears dried up and he wasn't capable of doing anything other than stare at things and feel a hard ache in his chest.

"I know your dad said no Internet, but I know you love it, so," Danny handed him a piece of plastic that looked similar to a flash drive.

"Is this Internet?"

"Keep it to PG things. I'm still watching and updating your dad every hour."

Stiles moved the corners of his lips up slightly and thanked Danny. He listened to everyone's stories, all exciting and crazy, before the nurse came in and started yelling about the amount of people in his room.

"Bye, buddy. I'll be back," Scott moved slowly to put his hand on Stiles and drew some of the pain.

Each wolf moved to draw his pain, to help him heal just a slight amount of his broken body. The humans, besides Jackson who fist bumped him gently, hugged him before getting chased out.

Stiles sat quietly in his room for the longest time, unable to sleep. The nurse asked him if he wanted some medication to help him sleep, but he shook his head no and watched the city outside his window. He was forced to eat the entire other half of his hamburger and jello, plus they brought an entire bowl of soup with way too many chunks.

The soup made Stiles puke the moment he looked into the bowl, barely anything coming up as he gagged into the garbage. He couldn't stomach looking at it, reminding him too much of all the times his head had been stuck in the toilet bowl.

The nurse came in with his psychologist who shook his head at the sight of his lunch in the garbage.

"Was it because you felt you needed to? Was it an urge?"

"The sight of soup makes me ill."

"Stiles," the tone he used made Stiles roll his eyes as it sounded like,'don't lie to me. I know the truth.'

"It, the soup, it reminded me of... Can I just have something else, please?"

"Are you willing to keep whatever else they bring you in your stomach? It isn't okay to be throwing up every time you eat. Your esophagus is torn and the acid is literally eating away-"

"Please," Stiles put his hand up. "You aren't helping. I just want something that doesn't look like barf, okay?"

Stiles didn't mean to snap at them, but he had. His ribs ached and his breaths were loud and sharp, deep as he tried to catch the air and get oxygen in him.

Once he successfully held down his meal for more than an hour, the man left Stiles with a wary look. If Stiles didn't have such sore fingers, he would've flipped the man off as he left.

As day slipped into night, Stiles got more antsy, his legs trying to move. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wasn't allowed to get out of bed under any circumstance, a painful catheter helping him for the most part. He legs were both wrapped as his left was swollen and his right was fractured in multiple places. His left leg had twisted the wrong way causing his kneecap to shift.

Stiles drew on his arm cast with a stolen sharpie, drawing a pack of wolves and a few human stick figures representing the pack. After midnight, he slowly started to slip into sleep from boredom, not because he was tired.

Stiles felt a warm heat on his shoulder and he opened his eyes enough to see the leather jacket.

"Derek," Stiles whispered as he couldn't fight off sleep to talk to him.

"Get some sleep, Stiles."

Stiles didn't need anymore encouragement to let the darkness slip over him. His dreams just a blank canvas as nothing played, no memories coming back to him.

~~~~~

Stiles loved that he had werewolves as friends. He loved that they had healing powers and it made him smile a full teeth smile, his first in many months, as he bent his left leg in his bed. His bruises had disappeared days before and the smile on his face made the entire pack, all crammed into his room with the sheriff, smile back at him, tears in some of their eyes.

"So, when can I get out of here?" Stiles looked up at his dad, ready to get out of the too-white room that filled him with disappointment as he woke up to it each morning.

"Hopefully soon. I have to make arrangements for home yet," the sheriff said.

"I just want to go home," Stiles groaned and pressed his head into his too-flat pillow.

"Soon, Stiles."

His dad put a hand on his shoulder, barely a touch in fear of hurting him, before he had to leave for work. The wolves each touched his foot on the way out, magic working through Stiles.

If he sat in his bed any longer, already been in it for four weeks and five days, that he was conscious of, not counting the days he was asleep, he would go crazy. His entire body buzzed with energy he couldn't use up and he typed up everything he knew about supernatural things on his computer. He wasn't sure what else to do. His mind couldn't focus enough to read, his leg twitching as it itched to get up and walk away.

When Mrs. McCall went to check on him at the beginning of her shift, he begged her to take him out of the room, just once around the floor. After rolling her eyes as saying no enough times, she agreed, but only if it was on his floor and if he stayed sitting in his wheelchair.

Once he got in the chair, only slight amounts of pain coming from his arm, he practically started yelling he was so happy. He looked at his room from another angle, even that being better than the bed he was stuck in.

She walked him slowly around the floor, nothing too spectacular going on. Stiles sniffled and wiped away his tears when he saw that he wasn't dead nor dying, saw he wasn't cursed to that room for his entire life. He realized how much he loved his life, remembered how amazing it was to live. Stiles watched people walk around, some pushing carts, some walking with canes. Seeing that things weren't always bad made him happier than he'd been since he'd left.

"Stiles."

Stiles turned his head to the side to look at Derek walking toward him with a glass vase in his hand. Stiles wanted to laugh at Derek carrying flowers, red tulips no less. Stiles bit into lips to keep from laughing in Derek's face.

"What?" Derek looked at him.

"Nothing," Stiles said quickly. "Where did you get the flowers? I'm pretty sure the hospital here doesn't sell tulips."

"Stiles, Derek will take you back to your room. I need to check on someone," Melissa said. "No fooling around. And Derek, straight back to his room."

Derek nodded at her and they were left alone in the hallway.

Or as alone as one could be in a hospital hallway.

"They're your favorite, right? I think you said that once, that tulips were your favorite?"

Derek looked down at the flowers and practically deflated as he realized something or thought he did.

"Yes, Derek, they are my favorite. I love them. Thank you." Stiles looked at Derek.

Derek nodded, not sure what to say. He handed the vase over to Stiles and walked behind him, pushing him through the hall.

"Take me to the babies," Stiles said as he looked at the pictures of random, old people on the walls.

"Are you allowed?"

"Just go, Derek," Stiles answered and rolled his eyes.

They spent a good part of their hour together searching for the babies, but once they found them, Derek lifted Stiles up out of his chair after he complained he couldn't see. Derek held tight to him knowing Stiles couldn't stand on his own yet.

"Awe," Stiles cooed at a baby in the window for a moment.

Seven babies lined up in the window for everyone to see, two more in the back getting washed off. Most were asleep, their eyes fluttering closed and their chest rising and falling fast in their sleep.

"Awe, Derek, look!" Stiles pointed at one baby who was pouting with a fat lip. "That one looks like you!"

The baby began to cry, murderous screaming coming from his lungs.

"That baby does not look like me," Derek huffed, his face near Stiles' neck.

Stiles didn't realize how close they were, Derek's arms around his waist with his chin resting on his shoulder as he looked through the glass at the babies.

"He totally does. He even sounds like you."

"He sounds like Lydia."

"But those are your ears and the dark hair! Did you and Lydia have a baby?"

"No," Derek stated murderously.

Stiles cooed at the babies even though they couldn't hear him as they slept. He congratulated a few parents who came to see their babies.

"Which one is yours?" A woman asked them as she looked at her granddaughter, only twelve hours old.

"None of them," Stiles smiled.

"Oh," the lady scrunched up her eyebrows. "You two aren't parents?"

Stiles froze for a second and licked his lips. The tips of his eyes burned when he realized what she was saying.

"No. We aren't together."

"A shame. You two are cute together."

Stiles could feel the vibrations of a growl from Derek's chest in his back. Stiles smile and moved from Derek's tight grip to sit in his chair. As they waited for the elevator, slow as ever, Stiles sighed and stared at the metal doors.

"I want one."

"Want one of what?" Derek asked after a second, thankful as the elevator arrived for them to go down three levels, stopping at every level but their own.

"A baby. I want a baby, Derek," Stiles answered when there wasn't anyone else in the elevator, but them.

Derek's entire body went rigid an he closed his eyes tightly. He took a few deep breaths as he squeezed the handles of Stiles' wheelchair.

Stiles could see Derek tighten in the shine of the metal on the elevator. He panicked for a slight second before relaxing and asking Derek a question.

"Oh, are babies another one of those sore subjects? Like family? Or is that only you?"

"Sort of," Derek breathed.

"Sorry," Stiles looked down at his hands limp in his lap.

Both men were quiet as they went back to Stiles' room, Melissa only scolding them for a minute before looking at them fondly when Stiles told them they had looked at the newborn babies. She tried to yell at him not to do it again, but there was no heat as she ducked back out of the door.

Stiles played with his cast for a minute and then looked at his flowers Derek had gotten him on his side table. A sly smile spread on his face.

"Tulips are my favorite, too," Derek startled Stiles.

"I didn't think you had a favorite anything."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"I don't just hate the world no matter what you tend to think."

"Name some things you like then," Stiles challenged.

"Reading, Baseball, my pack, and for some reason, your sassy ass."

"I read all the time, like stuff for you and your research and-"

Stiles stopped in the middle of his sentence and stared at Derek.

"You like me? Awe, Derek! Come here and let me squeeze your cheeks! You're too cute. I like you, too when you aren't yelling at me. You aren't a bad person like everyone thinks."

Derek looked at Stiles for a moment, their eyes holding each others for a minute before Derek cleared his throat and looked away, almost embarrassed.

Stiles stared wide eyed as he realized something, his heart picking up.

"Derek, when you mean 'like', do you mean like as in 'you're a cool friend' or as in 'I want you because I like you and we should date'?"

"I have to leave, Stiles."

Derek stood to leave, but Stiles' voice stopped him from walking out.

"I like you, too, Derek."

Stiles could see Derek's body move up and down as he breathed, but he had nothing further to say as Derek took the final few steps out of the door and leaving Stiles alone with a million unanswered thoughts.


	4. Can You Fix The Broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER IF YOU DO NOT AT ALL ABSOLUTELY CANNOT READ RAPE SCENES. The last thing I want to see happen is someone be offended, have memories come back, someone have a panic attack. I'm just warning, there is a scene about it in this chapter. Not exactly super detailed, but some details.
> 
> Other things I've been told or asked about:  
> 1\. Tommy didn't just leave. He's in this chapter.  
> 2\. Derek is different yes, but there's a million things to take into consideration. Stiles has been gone for a year. A lot happens in a year.  
> 3\. This chapter might answer some of your questions about Tommy. If not, tell me things you still need to know.  
> 4\. Stiles couldn't talk to his pack because Tommy controlled his life. I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear enough in other chapters. That was my fault.
> 
> This chapter literally hurt to write. And I don't know how anyone will respond to what I've written, but this was planned before I wrote this story and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry to you all reading if this isn't what you wanted.
> 
> If there is anything you'd like to see happen or scenes you'd like me to write, please let me know.

Stiles practically cried in joy the moment he was told he was allowed to leave the hospital in the morning. he was told he was to go home with the agreement that each pack member had a specific time they were to be with Stiles throughout the day (Scott got the afternoon shift with Isaac while Boyd and Erica had mornings. Derek volunteered to the night shift which was the hardest for the younger wolves to do). He was not allowed to be alone at all. He had to be monitored even when he used the bathroom and he had to eat a certain amount of food and take all of his medications or he was to go straight back to the hospital.

Once the initial joy of leaving the hospital left him, he began to panic. He didn't want to leave for safety reasons. Stiles knew Tommy wouldn't leave him alone, knew he would track Stiles down the moment he was out and he wasn't sure what was waiting outside of the doors, whether it be Tommy ready to attack or another supernatural creature.

He couldn't sleep through the night even after the nurse gave him a small dose of medication to help him relax. His chest felt tight like a panic attack was coming over him even as the sunlight poked over the horizon.

Stiles could barely let the nurse touch him to check his vitals when it was time, only let the pack touch him after he flinched at the contact. If anything moved too quickly, like a bird flying by his window, he cried and tried to stand up to get away, the nurses having to hold him down and inject medications into his IV to calm him down. He knew he wasn't ready to leave and the more he worried about leaving, the less he wanted to leave. He was safe inside the hospital, security just around the corner and could be at his side within seconds if he needed it. Nothing could get to him in the hospital. But the outside world was harder to predict and he wasn't ready to let it become reality.

His dad signed his paperwork for release in the morning and two nurses helped him into his wheelchair. Stiles swallowed hard as they made their way down the elevator to the lobby, Stiles rubbing his chest hard to stop the tightening inside of him, the area around him spinning and becoming unfocused.

"Dad," Stiles whispered as his breathing became labored.

"Stiles," his dad crouched in front of him, but Stiles couldn't see anything but blurs and colors. "Breathe with me. It's okay, son. Breathe."

His first few breaths shook, but the more he followed his dads deep breaths, the more they settled down into a much more even rate. He pushed away all his thoughts and focused solely on his dad in front of him. Stiles wasn't sure if he could leave the hospital, but the nurse wheeled him out the front doors anyway whether he wanted to go or not, he dads hand holding onto his right hand like he was five again.

Stiles squeezed tight to it like it was his lifeline. If he let go, he'd fall apart again. He didn't look around outside, keeping his eyes trained to his dads car in front of him. Derek stood by the passenger door ready to help him in.

"Is this someone who will be watching him while you're at work?" The nurse asked the sheriff.

"Yes. I trust him with Stiles."

Once Stiles was in the car, Derek in his Camaro trailing behind them, he closed his eyes to stop from looking out the windows. He didn't want to see Tommy anywhere, afraid to even glance at his surroundings.

Stiles also didn't want to know he was actually in a car, slightly afraid of getting into another accident. He pretended he was on a boat instead, even if it wasn't completely realistic.

"Everything is alright, Stiles. We're almost home."

His dads hand settled on his knee and he jumped, jostling his arm painfully. His dad didn't move his hand as he drove, letting Stiles know some touching was okay, that not all was dangerous. That's what Stiles told himself even if he didn't believe himself.

When they pulled into the driveway, Stiles sighed and waited for help to get him out of the vehicle. He opened his eyes and saw his childhood home before him and he sighed in relief feeling slightly safer at the sight.

Home was always considered safe, right?

Once they were all in the house, Stiles went straight to the fridge only bumping his wheelchair into a few things. He pulled out leftover Chinese takeout only giving his dad a small scowl about there being takeout at all in his fridge before digging in, not even bothering to warm it up. He moaned the moment he tasted how delicious it was. He didn't let his mind wander to how many calories were in the container.

"Is everything okay, Stiles?" His dad asked when he heard him moan.

"Chieez shlo goo," he swallowed.

"Be careful with that. That's not on the list of things you can eat."

Derek's hand was settled onto his arm before he could see it move there and Stiles knocked container, carefully balanced on the arm rest of his wheelchair, to the floor as he jumped.

"Sorry," Derek muttered before swiping the food back into the container and throwing it in the trash.

"It's not your fault," Stiles frowned at the trash can for getting the food he wanted.

"I'll make some food you can eat."

"I want lasagna," Stiles stated, realizing how many foods he could eat now that he wasn't on lockdown.

"Or chicken wings! Oh, chips and dip. A meatball sub! Quesadilla.." He drew out the word quesadilla as his eyes opened wide at the thought of chicken and cheese mixed together.

"Go easy, son. I think lasagna could be managed," his dad gave him a smile that, to Stiles, looked almost like he was proud he was eating.

"I'll go to the store," Derek said as he pulled his keys off the table.

Stiles and his dad sat in the kitchen talking about random things, really anything that didn't send Stiles over the edge. It was hard for his dad since that's all he could think about, but he was the sheriff, so he knew when to speak and what to say without hurting Stiles.

When Stiles had nothing to say, since he hadn't seen any movies or watched tv in a year, he stayed quiet. He wanted to ask his dad about something, but wasn't quite ready to hear an answer of what happened to Tommy, if he was still around or if something had happened to him.

"Hey, dad?" Stiles followed him into the living room. "Do you think there is anyway you could go and grab my stuff? I mean, it's not really a big deal, but I don't really have anything here."

"Stiles," the way his dad said his name, full of pain, like he didn't want to say anything, but had to, made Stiles regret he said anything. "I want to. And I tried, but the house, where you stayed, its not really... It caught fire."

"Was there anything-"

His dad shook his head to stop him from talking. The sheriff sighed.

"Thomas somehow, most likely magic from what I've heard, he set it on fire and has disappeared."

Stiles stopped breathing, understanding only the words 'Thomas' and 'disappeared' from that sentence. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find anything to say.

"Stiles."

The sheriff moved to his son, crouching in front of him like he was three and couldn't get the toy he wanted. Stiles hated that everyone was treating him like he was a baby, but he didn't bother saying anything about it. He knew nothing would change the way everyone was treating him.

"He won't get you. He won't be able to. I'm going to find him, I promise."

Stiles felt ill and didn't wait for Derek to get back before he made his way to the downstairs guest bedroom to lay down. He couldn't even stand the smell of the lasagna, passing up eating it instead for taking a nap.

~~~~~

Two week passed by. Stiles spent every minute with the pack, no one leaving his side until someone else showed up. Stiles had missed spending time with them, but the amount of times he felt like he had a heart attack was too many.

If something fell, he jumped. If something outside his window moved, he had to leave the room quickly. When someone touched him, he flinched away even if he knew they were going to touch him beforehand. Stiles was getting sick of getting scared by every little thing, but he couldn't help it. He heard, saw, and felt everything. 

A fly landed on his arm in his sleep one night. He wasn't sure how he felt it, but he screamed so loud, the neighbors knocked on the door and demanded to see Stiles, not trusting Derek's word that it was a bad dream.

Eating was easier, not by much, but at least he was allowed, even if he did have an urge to throw up by default. He refused to count numbers like Tommy had made him. Sometimes numbers popped into his head like a memory, but he ignored it as best as he could and shoved more food in his mouth to release the bad thoughts, even if he could only eat a few bites. He ate because his pack encouraged him, told him he had to eat. They told him stories of when they were having meetings and Scott ate four entire bowls of spaghetti. Each pack member became good at distracting Stiles while he worked his food slowly into his mouth to chew for too long.

As the days wore on, Stiles got more frustrated with himself, sometimes even yelled at himself. He couldn't even shower like he wanted to. He could barely fit his wheelchair into the bathroom, had to have someone help him stand up. His arm was almost healed completely, his fingers and wrist usable, but stiff from not being used for so long.

Stiles felt sorry for Derek since he was the one that was around as Stiles rambled about his sad life at three am. It was that time Stiles felt his world crashing down, his thoughts all depressing. Derek didn't complain or say much of anything, just listened to Stiles cry about his sad life or listen to him yell when he was angry. It had taken Stiles a few days to get used to Derek staying and listening to his deepest thoughts, not liking the idea of having someone in his room watching him. But Stiles trusted Derek. He knew he would be safe with Derek around even if he did know the darkest corners of his mind.

~~~~~

"You're a loser!"

Stiles flinched away from the hand that came down and struck him, making his cheek sting with pain.

"Stiles," Tommy laughed his name. "You know you're a loser. Just listen to your name. Stiles."

Tommy laughed allowed more, a big, menacing laugh that made Stiles' stomach curl. He wanted to barf at how twisted Tommy was.

"And you know, your friends, Derek, they don't want you anymore. They hate you! They were so happy to get rid of you. That's why when you left, they didn't cry. They never cared about you, Stiles."

Tommy's fingers held tight to his arms, the painful squeeze bruising his pale skin. Stiles couldn't move, wouldn't move until Tommy left the house. His body was practically numb and limp like a rag doll as Tommy yelled at him.

Tommy released one of his arms, lightly moving one of his fingers over Stiles' skin. It was almost a ghost touch, barely there as it tickled his skin. Stiles shivered at the slight touch as it traced up his arm and to his neck.

Sometimes Tommy's touches were surprising, how they jumped from light and loving to hard and painful with the slightest movement. Stiles often thought about how Tommy did that, wondering if he had some sort of bipolar disorder.

Nothing surprised Stiles more than the way Tommy touched his skin so gently, like he was holding a baby. When his fingers moved to his throat, fading bruises shaped like fingers already days old, where his fingers ghosted over. Tommy smiled sweetly down at Stiles before latching his hand to his throat, choking him until he couldn't breathe and blackness overtook him. He wasn't even scared as he faded out, almost happy to let death come over him.

~~~~~

Stiles woke slowly, stretching out his sore muscles. He whimpered when he moved his neck, his fingers moving to find bumps across his throat.

"I was waiting for you to wake up."

Stiles turning his body to the voice, his heart jumping even before he saw who was standing a few feet from him.

"Tommy," Stiles whispered, almost not believing he was there.

"I'm not even mad you left, Stiles. I'm actually proud of you for standing up to me for once."

Tommy circled around to his other side, taking a handcuff that was chained to the wall above his hand and cuffed it to Stiles' wrist.

"I was wondering when you would finally start to play this game with me. It only took you a year to figure out how to play which, honestly, took a lot longer than I thought."

Stiles licked his cracked lip, tasting dried blood.

"What are you talking about?"

"Stiles, there's so much you don't know about me. I did the honors of taking off your clothes and healing your old wounds. You should feel much better now. Sorry if you feel sore. I wasn't planning on you waking up."

"Tell me what's going on," Stiles coughed.

"Stiles, its not you personally, I promise. Your mate, or, no, you think of him as Derek, he killed my mate when he lived in New York. I'm just paying him back. Though I was just going to torture you and kill you. That was my plan, but you see, Stiles, I took a liking to you, so I couldn't just kill you."

Tommy straddled Stiles' hips once Stiles was chained up properly. Stiles couldn't think straight, couldn't move or fight back as Tommy rubbed his hands up and down Stiles' bare chest before moving them to his neck.

Stiles passed out with a single squeeze to the back of his neck from Tommy. He didn't even bother to fight against him, hoping it was all a dream.

~~~~~

Stiles opened his eyes to Tommy on top of him, his hands rubbing over Stiles' naked body. He whimpered out loud as Tommy ran his fingers over Stiles' face.

"Do you know how much it bothers an alpha when they smell another person on their mate? How do you think Derek is going to feel when he smells me rubbed into your skin?"

Stiles shuddered as Tommy gently ran his fingers down Stiles' face.

"Stiles, I'm sorry. Truly, I am. This has nothing to do with you personally, but Derek," Tommy snickered as he leaned forward to kiss Stiles' throat. "Derek needs to pay for what he did."

"You," Stiles cleared his throat. "You're a werewolf?"

"An alpha," Tommy stated, running his hands down his sides.

"How?"

"Stiles," Tommy sighed and pulled back. "I told you. There's a lot you don't know about me."

"How did you get me out of my house?" Stiles talked over Tommy. "Why did you hurt me? Why didn't you just go after Derek?"

"It was a little harder to get you out of the house than I originally thought. I had to get a human to do a little magic. Derek was the only one in the house, so strong magic had to be used since he's also an alpha. Once he was unconscious, I just walked through the front door and took you." Tommy stopped talking for a minute before continuing. 

"The hardest part of all of this was waiting for you to leave the hospital. A month? Really? Your werewolf friends could've completely healed you in the matter of an hour and you could've left, but no. Derek tried finding me a few times, but I have connections. My scent was always masked whenever I was around." Tommy sighed. "You really don't need to know all the boring details."

"How long have I been here?"

"Uhh, two days, I believe. I don't go by human time."

Stiles shrugged against him as Tommy tried to kiss him with slimy ,wet lips, unable to fully push him away. Tommy grabbed Stiles' face in his hand, smiling down at him, his eyes glowing red.

"Don't fight me, Stiles."

It didn't matter how Stiles moved, Tommy was a werewolf. He fought against Tommy as he began to touch his cock. Stiles refused to even acknowledge he was being touched, even if the contact felt good. It was rare when someone wanted to touch Stiles and any contact turned him on. Hell, an old lady would probably turn him on if one grabbed his crotch.

"It's too hard to get a human to understand werewolf logic, Stiles. I really am sorry about all of this."

Stiles laid still, not daring to move or enjoy a minute of Tommy trying to turn him on. He didn't say a word or make any noise as Tommy talked to him, murmured to him.

"Tell me if I hurt you, Stiles," Tommy mumbled out of breath with Stiles under him.

Tears ran down his cheeks even after squeezing them closed as Tommy pressed a finger into him. A cry escaped him when Tommy scratched his nails into his skin.

Tommy moved quickly with his fingers inside of him, not caring if he hurt Stiles, after finally pushing himself into Stiles, only taking a few minutes of deep, fast trusts to come inside of Stiles with a shudder. Stiles cried out as his cock swelled with a knot before blanking out from the pain as he was stretched open. Tommy's laugh was the last thing he heard.

~~~~~~

A voice brought Stiles back to reality some time later. He blinked a few times to let the blur leave.

"Stiles," a voice repeated his name and his body shook as someone moved him. "Stiles, its okay. Everything's fine. I've got you now."

Stiles looked at Derek's face, the worry clearly written even as Stiles was barely conscious. Stiles wanted to tell him he was okay, tell him all about Tommy, all the facts he found out, but he passed back out before he could open his mouth to speak.

~~~~~~

Stiles laid in bed for a week without seeing or talking to anyone. He had his dad board up his windows with thick wooden boards so he couldn't see outside and no one could go in or out. Every time Stiles heard someone's voice downstairs, he closed his eyes and curled up in bed with his blanket pulled over his head hoping they wouldn't find him.

He felt literally ill with his life. If someone had told him when Scott had gotten bitten that he would be where he was, he would've laughed it off and made a joke, but there was nothing funny about it. He hated himself and he hated everyone and anything that was around him.

He refused to leave his bedroom other than the bathroom which he hobbled quickly to on shaking legs. His dad brought him all of his meals, respected his distance by not walking near him, but leaving his food on his desk and staying in the doorway when he wanted to talk. He didn't bug Stiles about what he went through, didn't ask him anything.

Stiles didn't speak a word, didn't tell his dad when he was hungry or needed something. He felt physically there, but his mind, it had left him to drown in a world of pain and sadness.

A panic attack overcame him every night before bed, too scared to sleep. He had stayed awake for three days straight before he passed out, dreaming of nothing but Tommy's face above him. Sleep only lasted an hour each time, waking sweaty and hot with the sheets tangled around him as he tried to fight against dream Tommy.

Scott tried to visit, but he was denied seeing Stiles. He would try to sneak in, but his dad camped out on the couch and knew each time someone entered the house from the pager hooked to the security system, no matter where they entered, it would make his pager go off and he would block Stiles' door before anyone could see him.

Stiles had looked out the window three times since he had woken up in his bed. Derek had been outside each time he had snuck glances from the window in his dads room. The only time he felt real was when he saw Derek sitting outside in the yard. A piece of him sparked back to life, almost wanting to go out and talk to him.

But his fear of the outside world scared him too much and each time, he would pad back to his room on careful feet to not let his dad know he was in his room and curl into a ball, his hands cupped around his heart feeling to make sure he was real.

~~~~~

"Stiles, I know you don't want to talk, but Derek, he..."

Stiles moved his blanket back just enough to see his dads face in the doorway.

"He's been outside for a week straight, Stiles. He won't leave until he sees you're okay. Can he..." The sheriff couldn't even finish his question as he looked at Stiles, broken and stuck in bed.

His face showed how much he wanted to help his only child, but he didn't know how. He looked helplessly at his lump of a son in bed. It took all of his strength not to curl up around his son and hold him until he felt better.

Stiles wanted to speak to his dad, but couldn't find his voice and there was nothing to be said that was important enough.

"Can he come up and see you for a second?"

Stiles didn't know how to move to show he wanted to see Derek. His entire brain had practically short-circuited after Tommy had gotten to him, broke him down like he was cheap plastic.

Stiles sucked on his bottom lip gently and stared at his dad.

"Will you be okay if I let him in?"

Stiles didn't say anything, just stared. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't know what to say or how to act to his father.

The sheriff sighed and left the room, taking the stairs quietly as to not scare Stiles with the loud noise. Stiles listened to the front door open and shut and low voices murmuring. 

There were no noises in the house during the day except the hum of energy in the walls and whatever noise his father made throughout the day. It was a silent house which left Stiles to think or to stare off into space if he wanted to.

"Stiles, Derek is coming up, okay?" His dad called from the bottom of the stairs.

Stiles tucked the blanket around him tight pretending it was a shield like he had done when he was younger and believed in monsters.

"Stiles?"

He could see through the crack he had left in order to watch the door like he always did. Derek stood in the doorway, still.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

Stiles watched the familiar leather jacket bend at Derek moved his arm to pull something from his pocket. Stiles tensed as he stared at Derek's hand waiting for him to pull out a gun or something to hurt him with and relaxed when his hand emerged without such items.

The orange wrapper caught Stiles' attention immediately.

"I brought you something."

Derek took slow steps toward Stiles, not moving too quickly to scare him.

"The flower died, but.." Derek bent over when he was close enough to put the Reese's and the tulip at the edge of his bed, not getting close enough to reach Stiles.

Stiles moved carefully, picking up the candy and opening it with his teeth. He pulled out a cup and bit into it, closing his eyes to enjoy the delicious mixture. He opened them again and panicked when Derek wasn't in front of him. His eyes searched his room and found him sitting in the computer chair.

"I killed him," Derek stated after a few minutes of silence.

Stiles licked his fingers from the melted chocolate and tilted the package toward Derek, offering a cup to him. Derek reached forward too quickly, making Stiles flinch back into his blanket.

"I won't hurt you, Stiles. I promise."

Derek reached passed Stiles' outstretched hand and laid his gently against his forearm. Stiles didn't pull away, frightened by the contact, but also liking the feel of Derek's ruff hand pushed against his arm. Derek moved his body closer to his outstretched arm, crouching next to Stiles' bed.

"I know you're scared, Stiles. But he's gone. He can't hurt you. No ones going to hurt you."

Stiles let his heart pound quickly in his chest as Derek held onto his arm.

"Stiles, I... I'm going to tell you what happened, okay?"

Stiles stared at Derek's face, noticing how he needed to shave desperately.

"Tommy, he used some sort of spell, I don't know... It was my fault he got you, Stiles. I could see him come in, saw everything that was happening, but I was paralyzed, like that time with the Kanima."

Stiles never heard Derek talk so much in his life, but he was mesmerized by Derek's lips moving, watched them move as he spoke sentences Stiles couldn't understand or process.

"He grabbed you in your sleep. You tried to wake up or I think you did. He choked you... I didn't get a good look at him until he left and... He was after me, Stiles. He was trying to get back at me by getting to you. I killed his mate."

Stiles' eyes moved to his arm where Derek was holding. Derek's thumb brushed over his arm gently, back and forth. The movement made Stiles uncomfortable, but he looked back at Derek and refused to think of Tommy.

"His mate, she tried to kill Laura. I don't know exactly what happened, but I went after her in rage. It was right after the fire. It didn't take much to kill her. Tommy wasn't an alpha then, but I guess he found a way. And he followed me here and waited. And I don't know, Stiles. It's all my fault. I hurt everyone I love. I'm sorry."

Derek rested his forehead against the edge of the mattress and Stiles moved his hand to Derek's head, petting down the soft wisps of his dark hair. Derek sighed into the mattress and let Stiles touch him.

~~~~~~

Derek was the only one allowed near Stiles besides his dad. Whenever he stopped by, he brought a present for Stiles. Each time, Stiles would sit up and enjoy his gift in whatever it was. 

The time Derek brought over slime, Stiles slipped a quirk in his lip, the first facial expression Derek had seen from Stiles since he had seen him in the hospital, as he let it ooze from one hand to the other. Many times Derek would share a story about his family or some memory as he watched Stiles in fascination as he played or ate whatever was given to him.

"My dad, he was the loud one of my parents. He would come home after a run or a day at work and would tell us something he had seen. He talked a lot, too. Kind of like you did, Stiles. I think that's why I originally had been annoyed with you. You talked so much and each time, it hurt when you talked. It reminded me of my dad."

The days Derek had stories were the days Stiles cuddled in his blanket, silent as he stared at him and listened to every word he said. Derek never tried to move closer to him or touch him, just sat in the chair and talked for hours before leaving until the next time he showed up.

Stiles went to sleep soon after Derek left, creating a dream of Derek and his family laughing together at Christmas or younger Derek fighting with his sisters. His dreams of Tommy stretched further apart as he spent more time with Derek.

~~~~~

"...and Laura cried for two hours because I hid her Girl Scout vest in the garage and she couldn't find it... Stiles, do you feel okay?"

A cold sweat overcame Stiles' body within seconds and his stomach turned painfully. His stomach tightened before he leaned over his bed and puked into his garbage can thankfully placed close enough for his use. He gagged on and off for thirty minutes, Derek not wanting to move closer to him and frighten him, but wanting to make him feel better.

"Stiles, I'm coming closer."

Derek moved in Stiles' line of sight, sitting on the edge of his bed and putting a hand to his shoulder to draw the pain and sickness he felt away from him.

Stiles fell onto his side, too exhausted from gagging to move. Stiles let Derek rub his arm as he stared half-lidded at him.

"What's wrong?" Derek scowled.

A memory of Derek pushing Stiles into a wall with similar scrunched eyebrows when they had first met came into Stiles' mind. The contrast in touch made Stiles shiver, but the eyebrows made Stiles try to smile. It was barely a movement, but Derek's shoulders loosened as he saw Stiles try something more than his now-normal poker face.

~~~~~

His dad went to work half days, worried about Stiles locked away in his room for days on end. He knew Derek was around to watch Stiles, but it wasn't healthy for Stiles to lay in bed for so long.

He brought Stiles a grilled cheese, his favorite food as a toddler, before heading to work one afternoon.

"I know you don't like soup, but this is just chicken broth with no chunks. Try to drink it, okay? If not, that's okay, too. I have to go to work, but I'll be home in a few hours. I love you, son."

The sheriff walked toward the door a few steps, stopping for only a second as he heard Stiles whispered "Love you," so quietly.

He swallowed and left quickly, only wiping his tears away when he got into his car to head to work. It had been more than a month since he had heard his son talk and even the whisper had been more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick question...
> 
> Would you like to see pregnant Stiles or sick Stiles? I'm letting my readers choose what they would like to happen since this isn't just my story anymore. I'm sharing this with you all now, so, please, take a minute to answer...
> 
> Also, thoughts, comments...
> 
> How do you think Stiles will get better? Will he get better?  
> Hmm.


	5. This Is When Silence isn't Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your guys' comments and kudos have made me cry. I've never had someone so supportive of my writing and to see everyone of you reading this, it means a lot to me. Really. I would love to give each one of you a gift, but that would take awhile. But I thank you all for reading this.
> 
> Also, I would like to say that I read every single comment, but most of the time I don't know what to say because I'm squealing like a baby and literally all my replies would be: asdfghjkl. So please do not think I ignore you. I take every comment personally and if there's a suggestion, I think about it hard.

Stiles, stuck in bed sick, puked everyday for two weeks, Derek there every time to pull his pain away the moment it became unbearable for him. Derek worried as Stiles' face paled further, his body deteriorating further which made Derek pick up his old habit of biting his nails off which he hadn't done since he was a young child. Stiles shuddered against Derek's touch whenever he couldn't keep his hands to himself, but didn't say anything as he gagged until his stomach muscles ached and he couldn't hold his head over his bed any longer. It made Derek's heart ache as he thought of how weak Stiles was, how he wasn't able to get out of bed on his own, how he laid in the same spot of hours.

After multiple days of Stiles being sick, Derek refused to admit he counted each day, a total of 17 days, he rubbed worryingly at Stiles' back, not even moving from the bed where he sat behind Stiles watching him clench and tighten in pain, the salty trails of tears stained to his face as he was too weak to move his hand up and swipe them away.

"Stiles, I think you should go to the hospital."

Stiles reached his arm behind him, gripping as hard as his weak body would allow to Derek's hand as he gagged loudly almost saying no with the squeeze of his small, frail fingers.

"I know you don't want to, but please, Stiles. Let me take you."

Stiles sagged down into the mattress, too tired to even hold his eyes open or hold a conversation with Derek as all of his energy drained from him after being sick. Derek worried deeply for only a moment about Stiles' declining heart rate before lifting him up in his arms, surprised at how light Stiles had gotten again, not like he was heavy before, not even caring Stiles wouldn't like that Derek touched him more than he gave permission to. Derek carried him down the stairs, scribbling a note quickly for the sheriff knowing he would be home within the hour, and gently settled Stiles in the car and sped the entire way to the hospital, shushing Stiles quietly as he mumbled and whimpered in his sleep, only crying out a few times when he became conscious enough to realize he was moving too fast in a car, the threat of crashing always present. Derek couldn't slow down even if he was half sane. He worried as Stiles' heart murmured in an uneven pattern.

He didn't bother finding a parking spot, just pulled up to the emergency room entrance and brought Stiles inside, finding Mrs. McCall, thankfully, working the evening shift and only hesitated a second before letting her take Stiles to be examined. He didn't trust her completely, but much more than any other person in the hospital. 

"What's wrong with him?" She ran to his side, pushing a wheelchair to Derek so he could ease Stiles from his arms.

"I don't know. He's been getting stomach aches and puking and I.. His heart rate isn't steady."

Derek felt his forehead pucker as he scowled, concern and panic filling every atom in his body. He tried to keep breathing as steady as he could, looking at Stiles' pale face, his head rolled to the side and eyes squished shut.

He wasn't sure what to say, but he was able to mumble something out as he stared down at the boy. "Fix him, please," Derek whispered so quietly, not sure if anyone heard him, as the nurse wheeled him away for testing and hopefully treatment.

~~~~~

Derek paced in front of the nurses station for hours, not stopping even as nurses tried to talk him into sitting down. After a few minutes of trying to get him to even slow down his pace after almost knocking an intern over, they gave up trying to talk him into stopping. His face held too much determination as he walked a path in the floor, or it felt like he did. He couldn't stop until he knew Stiles was okay or he was going to be. He tried his hardest not to lose himself to his wolf form as heavy emotions forced him into panic mode. The energy pumping its way through his veins almost hurt as he paced, but he refused to allow himself to do anything more than walk, one foot in front of the other as he waited. He wanted to be around the second the doctor came out with words of Stiles' health.

When the sheriff came crashing through the doors, Derek told him everything he knew and John pulled Derek into a hug, holding him tightly even as Derek tensed, not completely used to the idea of hugging, before hugging him back with a light hold.

"Thank you for being there for him, Derek," he whispered as he pulled away, a look of devastation and loss scribbled clearly in his eyes.

The sheriff sat down in a chair while Derek paced until a doctor came out five hours later with a sour expression on her face, her finger curling in a 'follow me' gesture. The sheriff shared a quick look with Derek before they followed after her.

She brought both of them into a white-walled room where Stiles laid asleep in a bed, covered in multiple blankets. Derek could still see him shivering even from the door even as he counted more than four heavy blankets, much different than the usual sheet thin blankets the beds had. She didn't speak until the door was fully closed and she set a file down on a table. Derek held back the urge to shake her and demand information as she took her time to open the file and give a sad look to them both.

"Sheriff, I don't want to worry you."

Derek's heart clenched in his chest and he prayed, though he didn't believe in God, that Stiles was going to live. If she said she didn't want him to worry, something had to be wrong and Derek mentally tried to brace himself for bad news.

Bad news would never become easy to deal with for Derek no matter how many bad things happened to him in his life. Not after losing his entire family, his pack, his everything. He couldn't lose the most important person in his life now. And he definitely knew he wasn't prepared to lose Stiles, not when Stiles was smart and had an entire life he needed to live whether or not it was with Derek or a nice woman he met in a small coffee shop. If anyone deserved to live, it was Stiles and Derek began to think about giving him the bite, even if it were against his wishes.

"It's not cancer, is it?"

"No, that was the first thing I checked for. Stiles, well, there isn't anything physically wrong with him. He's been through a lot in the last year and he's just mentally not... There. His brain scans show major changes than in a normal brain scan," she slid a brain scan onto a lighting board so everyone could see as she pointed between an average brain and Stiles'. "These areas are darker than the average brain and here, his brain has actually shifted slightly. I don't want to assume anything, but I think it's that once he got over the initial shock of his trauma, he finally understood what happened, finally realized all that happened to him and now he's just.. He's fallen into... He's just not completely here, Mr. Stilinski."

"So, there's nothing wrong with him?" The sheriff frowned.

"In a sense, yes. I'd like to do a few more tests if you don't mind, but I need you to sign some forms for all of this and maybe get a psychologist in here to talk to him."

"He had one, but, I don't think Stiles liked him." Derek spoke, both adults looking at him for a second, almost like they forgot he had been in the room.

"We'll find one that's more for younger children suffering with trauma. Stiles is more of the creative type, so someone who is more open and much more considerate will be the best option. And I also think that someone who works with younger children could benefit Stiles a little more since his trauma has set back his brain activity. Nothing to worry about. He just needs someone to spend time with, let him become comfortable with average, everyday life again. Do you have any questions, concerns?"

Derek didn't let his brain think of how damaged Stiles was. Derek had been through his fair share of trauma, but not anything close to what Stiles dealt with nor for the amount of time he did. For Derek, it was a quick change, for Stiles... Derek shuttered at the mere thought.

He took a deep breath and convinced himself that it was just okay to know Stiles was alive and physically okay. If he had to, he would deal with a damaged Stiles and he would be there to take care of him if that's what it came to. Derek watched Stiles crinkle his face in his sleep. His wrinkled nose made Derek's lips twitch into an almost smile.

"No, thank you, Sherry." John shook her hand.

"You know I'm here for you and Stiles both just as I was every step for your wife. Don't hesitate to call me or come find me for anything, John."

"Thank you," the sheriff whispered as he pulled the doctor into a hug.

~~~~~~

Derek stayed by the door throughout the rest of the night and through most of the day. He watched the sheriff hold onto Stiles' hand and slump over in sleep when the wear of the day overtook him. Stiles only left the room a few times, barely conscious as he was rolled back and forth between testing and rest. Derek hated to see him leave, like it would be the last time he'd see the boy alive, but allowed the doctors to continue their work.

Stiles didn't say much of anything, mainly stared off when he was conscious and sitting up, like he had been doing for almost a month and a half. He ate when food was brought to him, but everyone could see how mechanical his movements were, how glassy his eyes looked at they stared with minimal blinking. Derek bit the inside of his cheek as hard as he could, letting it bleed into his mouth, let the taste of metal fill his mouth, to make him realize he was awake and that he was really watching Stiles suffer in bed.

The only sound Stiles made throughout the entire day was a soft whimper when his dad let go of his hand to go to the bathroom and grab some coffee which Derek made him do because as much as he wanted to be near his only child, he needed time away, to think about things without Stiles in front of him, suffering. Stiles had tried to reach for his fathers hand, but couldn't hold his small arm up for long, so he let it go limp, and pouted at the loss of comfort he had felt with his dad beside him.

When there was no one else in the room but Stiles and Derek, Derek moved quietly to sit beside Stiles to be closer. Stiles kept his glossy eyes on Derek as he approached, but didn't say anything when Derek moved around the room. When Derek finally sat down, almost nervous to be that close to Stiles, Stiles held out his hand toward Derek. His wrist was limp, so his hand hung in the air, but Derek knew he wanted it to be held, so he reached his own hand to the outstretched one, entwining their fingers together. He tried not to pull away, scared he hurt him when Stiles flinched at the contact, but felt like moving away would hurt Stiles more when he was the one who wanted the contact. Derek wondered to himself if Stiles lived only from the touches of people he cared for. His glassy eyes and limp body crushed Derek's heart, especially when he was close enough to see all the details etched into Stiles' features, but the touch seemed to ease him into a more comfortable sleep.

"I don't know if you were awake when the doctor was here, but they want you to talk to someone. I think you should, Stiles. It'll be best for you, but it's all your decision," Derek talked quietly, not because he wanted to, but because it was too quiet in the small room.

Every moment he had ever spent with Stiles had been full of loud energy talks, the boy never shutting up, but since Stiles didn't seem to talk, the room was almost uncomfortable and eerily scary to Derek. He decided to fill every moment he could with his own voice, his own stories for Stiles to hear as Stiles had shared so much of himself with Derek over the years.

Stiles kept his head to the side as he stared at Derek, barely blinking as he looked over Derek's face, no judgement or really any expression on his face for Derek to try to decipher. Derek tried not to look away, feeling awkwardly naked and exposed as Stiles stared blankly at him. Derek had never been a shy boy, but he felt like turning away in discomfort when Stiles stared so openly at him.

"They were hoping the person would be here soon since he has to drive from another hospital... What are you staring at?" Derek had to ask.

A small, barely visible lip twitch caught Derek's attention. The corners of Stiles' lips pulled up as he looked at Derek. It was the most expression had seen on his face in months and he couldn't stop from smiling back.

Derek began to wonder if being within the safety walls of the hospital helped Stiles feel more comfortable, but forgot the thought as he looked at Stiles.

"Gift."

The word caught Derek off guard as Stiles spoke. He hadn't said more than a few words over the long month and then, as he looked Derek straight in the eye, he spoke. Derek took a deep breath to calm himself from getting up and tugging Stiles to his chest, the pull to do so very strong.

"I, your gift is at the house. I didn't mean to forget it, but I was in a hurry. I'm sorry."

Stiles scowled at Derek and the urge to laugh made Derek worry for his own mental health. He wanted to laugh with joy as Stiles was doing more than stare into space, but he also wanted to laugh to pull off his need to cry. He had never had an urge to cry as bad as he did when he looked at Stiles in the hospital bed, beaten down and broken to the point that he couldn't make sentences to talk to anyone. Derek felt his own heartache for Stiles and never in his life had he wanted to fix someone as much as he wanted to with Stiles.

There was a knock at the door and a too friendly, happy smiling guy pushed his way in talking too loudly in the quiet room. Derek wasn't sure if he was scared of the all too happy doctor or if he hated him for being so happy in a room full of misery. Either way, the happiness wasn't making Derek feel comfortable as his entire life, or his most recent years, had been filled with every emotion but happy. He didn't understand the emotion happy. It was almost foreign, like Japanese.

"Hi, hello! You must be Mr. Stilinski, Stiles? And this handsome young man is..."

"Derek," Derek stood to shake his hand. The look on Derek face, wide eyed and scared of the man, made the man laugh a big, belly laugh.

Derek couldn't help but judge the creepy man. He was older, late forties, maybe fifty and had an average look to him with brown hair and hazel eyes. His nose stood a little crooked, but that was the only thing that made him slightly separate than any other man on the street.

"I'm Kevin Ingles, Kevin's fine."

Derek went with his most familiar feeling of anger that rose up and wanted to deck the man and make him stop sounding so cheerful, but he nodded and once he sat down and the man turned away to move another chair closer to the bed, Derek flared his nostrils and scowled.

"Do you want me to leave?" Derek looked at Stiles who had his own worried look on his face as he saw the man.

Derek was glad he wasn't the only one to not know what to feel of the man. Stiles didn't take his eyes of the man as he shook his head no to Derek's question.

"So, Stiles, how do you feel today? Sad, empty? Happy, full of surprise?" The man clicked his pen and put his foot on his knee to hold his paper as he wrote something down.

Stiles didn't say a word, nor did he move one muscle, barely blinking as he watched every move the man made. Mr. Ingles didn't force Stiles to talk. He asked a few question in which Stiles didn't acknowledge in any way. Derek just watched the two, not wanting to ruin anything that was happening. He also wasn't sure what to say, still having conflicted feelings over the man. After forty minutes of one-sided conversation, the man left with promises of returning the following day and Derek forced himself not to growl or roll his eyes.

~~~~~~

Each day Kevin returned to try and pull answers from Stiles who didn't do anything but stare. Derek could tell he was still trying to read the man, calculate if he was okay to talk to. If Derek hadn't seen the slight twitch of Stiles' eye after the third day of visits, he would've never guessed what was going through his head. It almost scared Derek how well he could read a quiet Stiles.

By the end of the second week, Kevin asked Stiles the same question he had on the first day. "How do you feel, Stiles?"

Derek was almost impressed with how patient this man was with Stiles. There wasn't an ounce of annoyance, just happy smiles and too friendly questions.

Stiles didn't say anything like always, but he squeezed Derek's hand which was the most he moved during a visit from the crazy guy, almost in reassurance, maybe asking if it was okay to talk. Derek hadn't even realized his hand had slipped back into Stiles' when he had sat back down after getting up to open the door for Kevin. The feeling of their hands together were so familiar and welcoming, Derek unconsciously had went back to him. He didn't know whether to be happy Stiles didn't flinch away from his touch or to be scared that it was an unconscious thought to touch the boy.

"It's okay to talk, Stiles. You won't be punished for it," Derek whispered to him, his head by his ear.

Derek didn't know what made him talk, but something inside of him wanted to reassure Stiles, even if he didn't really like Kevin's happiness.

"Scared." 

The barely there whisper from Stiles made Derek jump.

"You're feeling scared?" The man fake pouted. "Of what?"

Kevin didn't even look at all surprised Stiles had talked. Derek cursed him in his head.

"You."

"Me?" He pretended to be startled and moved his head back as if offended by what Stiles had said.

Derek so badly wanted to stand up and knock the guy out as he acted out an emotion for each thing he or Stiles said. It was like he was talking to a small child, not an adult. Derek wasn't even sure children liked when he did that.

Stiles nodded with the slightest movement, keeping his eyes glued to Kevin.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way toward me. I'm not a scary man, I promise. Now, I was told some things before I came in here and I was wondering if you could tell me if they were true or not. Can you do that?"

Stiles stared at the man much similar to how Derek had been since the first visit, but he nodded again.

"Okay, we will start off with simple things like, did you have a dog when you were younger?"

Stiles shook his head no.

"Your favorite color is red?"

Stiles nodded.

"Now to some harder ones. If you feel uncomfortable, you don't have to answer, but it will help me help you if you answer, okay? Okay. You went to college and you found this boy of which name I am not allowed, by the order of your father, to say, is this correct?"

Stiles nodded and squeezed Derek's hand gently in his own. Derek gave Stiles a smile when he turned to look at him, encouraging him to continue, to show him he supported him and to let him know how well he was doing for talking. Derek was proud of Stiles. Derek was also proud of how much stronger Stiles felt after being taken care of in the hospital. He wasn't even close to being as strong as he once was, not even half as strong, but it was better than the weak hold he had before.

"And he hurt you?"

Derek watched as Stiles moved slightly in his bed in discomfort of the topic. His chest rose high and fell slowly back down as he took a deep breath. Derek knew he wouldn't hesitate if he had to get up and punch Kevin if he made Stiles any more uncomfortable.

"Yes," Stiles spoke quietly.

It almost chilled Derek with how much heat and pain hid behind one little word. He had heard Stiles mad, even pissed off, but he had never heard him so cold and heartless towards anything.

"You tried to get away and he hurt you?"

"He.." Stiles swallowed before falling silent again, the tiny spark of life in his eye Derek had hoped would become much more, became nothing as Stiles let his eyes gloss over as he stared off again, this time at a cheesy poster hanging on the blank, white wall.

"He what, Stiles? It's okay to talk to me. I can't do anything and no answer is wrong."

Stiles shook is head no.

"No as in you don't want to talk to me or as in he isn't the one who hurt you when you left to get away?"

Stiles nodded at the ending of the sentence and closed his eyes. Derek wondered if Stiles was remembering something or if he was tired.

"This question is all you. I was not told the answer beforehand and I have to trust you when and if you tell me an answer. Did this man rape you when he kidnapped you?"

Kevin stared at Stiles waiting for an answer as Stiles laid still with his eyes closed. Derek could see his eyes move as he followed something he was watching. He didn't answer for a moment, just sat silent and still. Derek squeezed his hand and Stiles' entire body jumped before he opened his eyes and nodded.

"Can you describe what your surroundings were like?"

"Didn't see..." Stiles mumbled, barely in the room at all as he spoke.

Derek stared at the man, waiting for him to turn into some sort of demonic spirit and try to take over Stiles' body. He didn't know why, but the entire situation felt like a bad exorcism movie.

"Explain to me what you felt like when he touched you."

Stiles shuddered and gripped Derek's hand tighter.

"Angry."

"You were angry he was touching you?"

Stiles began to look more frustrated, the hurt and pain falling over his face as no one understood what he was trying to say.

"Talking.... He..." Stiles swallowed hard and tried to make a sentence.

Derek didn't want to feel jealous the man was getting more words from Stiles than he had in a month, but he listened to Stiles and ignored the man completely.

"So he was talking to you. Okay, good. That's good, Stiles. I'm proud of you. It's good to remember and talk about it. Do you know what he was saying?"

Stiles nodded as he looked at his hand connected with Derek. His thumb rubbed gently over Derek's hand.

"Not remembering." Stiles stared.

"You can't remember what he was saying?"

"No," Stiles said loudly, frustration clear. "...playing."

"I didn't hear you, Stiles. Can you speak clearer?"

"'s playing... My head."

"It's playing in your head? Like, a movie? You're watching it?"

Stiles nodded and took his hand out of Derek's, playing carefully with each one of Derek's fingers like a toy. A soft smile spread on his face as he bent and moved each one. Derek wasn't sure what had changed in Stiles, maybe he was just having a slightly better day than normal, but he was glad for it.

"Stiles, I know I've been coming by everyday already, but do you mind if I come back tomorrow to talk?"

"...back..." Stiles spoke the word like he was confused and then once he thought about it, he nodded and continued to play with Derek's fingers.

"You're doing great, Stiles. You're a good kid. I'll see you tomorrow."

Once he left, Stiles moved his bed until it was flat and then flopped onto his stomach, pulling Derek's hand close to his chest as he closed his eyes to sleep. Derek didn't pull away, just leaned closer to the bed and let his eyes fall closed as sleep pulled him under with Stiles.

It was an exhausting day for both and with what little sleep Derek had been getting, he was happy to do it near Stiles.

~~~~~

Everyday the psychologist came to talk with Stiles, even Sundays. Stiles didn't talk anymore than he had that one day. Some days Stiles drew pictures, stick figures since he wasn't exactly an artist. But each one was different, something he remembered that had nothing to do with Tommy or what had happened. The first picture had been a surprise. It was drawn on a napkin during one of their talks, just a doodle of him and his mom and dad. But it gave Kevin a chance to see inside Stiles' mind better, so he had it become a regular thing.

Stiles seemed to like Kevin as he talked to him, opening up and saying a few more words as they talked. Derek spent every second he could with Stiles, not wanting to leave his side in his own fear of never being able to see him again.

If Derek wasn't in the room when someone went in to check on him or visit, Stiles had a panic attack from being alone with someone he wasn't comfortable with and they would sedate him into a light sleep. The sheriff was around most of the time, but Derek sent him home to get some sleep or go into the station for more than ten minutes if he worried about his work. the sheriff spent almost as many hours beside Stiles as Derek, muttering stories to him about when he was a young child. Stiles seemed to enjoy the stories his dad told and even sat up in bed to watch his dad recall the memories.

Scott visited once a week. Stiles recognized people well enough, so it wasn't a concern, but it was hard since they had nothing to talk about. Video games weren't allowed in his room and all items had to be approved before entering his room. Scott talked mainly about the clinic and all the animals he saved throughout the week with Deaton. Stiles smile at some of the stories Scott shared, a small, almost like a laugh fell from his mouth after a kitten Scott had been afraid of, the small kitten backing him into a corner.

"It was an evil kitten, I swear!" Scott tried to defend his case.

Erica visited once, too afraid to come back for a second visit. She only lasted ten minutes, apologizing multiple times about hitting him with a car part before she had to leave the room in tears. Stiles had stared after her, confusion playing at his face. Derek didn't try to begin to elaborate or understand any of what he mumbled and shrugged at Stiles.

Boyd often showed up randomly. He was easier to have around since he didn't talk much and didn't usually make comments or feel too emotional about Stiles being in the hospital, and if he was concerned, he was good at hiding it. He hung around and watched QVC, one of the three approved channels for him, with Stiles.

Lydia always showed up at 7:30 pm right before visiting hours were over. Derek was sure it was for a fast getaway if she needed, but he didn't comment since he understood where she was coming from. She came fluttering in with flowers every other night and talked about things she had bought or wanted to buy, asking for Stiles' opinion before answering herself, whether or not she should buy the shoes. Derek rolled his eyes at her, but let her come back and talk to him since it made Stiles' days slightly easier, if only a little.

Jackson stopped by once with a card which he handed to Derek as to not get too close to Stiles like he was diseased. Derek read it to Stiles and the look Stiles held was almost fond. Jackson ran from the room after that. Derek thought he saw tears in Jackson's eyes, but didn't say a word about.

Isaac wasn't allowed to visit after his incident. The first time he had seen Stiles, he had moved too quickly, scaring Stiles as he climbed into bed with him, latching on and hugging him tightly. Stiles didn't have a panic attack, recognizing Isaac, but he whined and burst into soundless tears from the contact, way more contact than anyone else had given him in a long time. Isaac was quickly pulled from the room by Derek and told not to come back. Isaac had his own set of tears from the whole seeing Stiles thing, not truly being able to control himself.

Two emotional people should not be in the same room together. Apparently that was even a hospital rule, Derek found out.

There was more than that rule though. There was multiple rules on which Derek hated. All of the having to do with Stiles. It was okay for him to hold Stiles' hand, but anymore contact made Stiles act funny. It was also a rule that only two people could be in a room besides the patient. It had been one, but Derek refused to leave and once everyone saw that Stiles couldn't have someone else in the room unless Derek was there, he was allowed to stay like a guard dog when someone else visited.

Derek stared at Stiles, often for hours. It was one afternoon, after a month of sitting in the boring room that Derek jumped in his seat.

Stiles had been coloring in a Spongebob coloring book Derek had bought and he began to hum. It was quiet, but it filled Derek's ears just as easily as when he spoke. Derek didn't say anything, just listened to the rise and fall of notes as he hummed a Katy Perry song. Derek wouldn't ever tell anyone, but even that small sound from Stiles eased something deep inside of Derek, tears welling in his eyes as he listened and yearned for more. Derek wanted to grab the notes in his hand and replay them every second so he could just hear Stiles when he fell into his quiet state again.

After two months of sitting in the hospital, Derek walked through the halls which had become so easy to navigate, he could've done it with his eyes closed. He stopped just around a corner from the nurses station as he heard the Sheriff talking quietly to the doctor.

"...and he'll be moved over there tomorrow?"

"Yes. Parker's Psychiatric is a good place for him. He doesn't need to be here any longer and I don't think he is healthy enough to go home. He needs someone to make sure he eats since he's started to not eat properly again. And it'll be much more easy for Dr. Ingles since that's his hospital. Stiles will be well taken care of there."

Derek walked by and entered Stiles' room not wanting to hear anymore of Stiles' new arrangements. He also pushed away the sad feeling that started to creep up in him. He didn't want to feel anything besides happy because Stiles seemed to be just slightly happier than he had been weeks prior. He still had time to spend with Stiles, if only for a few more hours.

"Hey, Stiles, I got you something."

"Derek," Stiles smiled when he entered.

It was still rare for Stiles to say much of anything, but one of the words he did say often was Derek's name and each time, a new string would tangle itself around Derek's heart and pull tightly.

Stiles held up a drawing, extremely detailed from Stiles' usual stick figure drawing. He held up a scrap piece of paper with a wolf in the center. The wolf, big and black with fur held its head down toward a boy in a red hoodie. The boy seemed to be asleep under a tree and the wolf had his paw set on the boys leg.

"Wow, Stiles. This is amazing." Derek pulled the paper from his outstretched hand to look closer.

"You me," Stiles mumbled.

"Can I keep this?" Derek looked at Stiles who nodded.

"Derek," Stiles used his name as a question after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, Stiles?"

Stiles didn't say anything for awhile, he just laid still and stared at the TV which flickered with some infomercial.

"When can I go home?"

Derek's heart clenched painfully, not just because of how sad Stiles sounded as he asked, but because it was the first full sentence Derek had heard him say in a long time. It was the saddest question Derek had ever heard.

He didn't have the heart to answer him or tell him he was to be moved to another hospital in the morning. He slid his hand into Stiles' and squeezed, the comfort letting them both relax slightly. Derek sent the entire night staring at Stiles knowing he wouldn't be able to stay with him at the other hospital and refused to shut his eyes even when complete fatigue tried to overtake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only took so long because a) I'm crazy b) I didn't know what to write, so I wrote a rough draft and then let it be for a month to think of some ideas and now I just went in and added a bunch of things and I'm much happier with this. So, I hope you enjoyed and I also hope to have more sooner than a month. :)


	6. Not Broken, Just bent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried. I did. I don't want to write sad, scared Stiles anymore. It's making me sad. He's just so...
> 
> Also, I don't know why I didn't notice before, but I switched to Derek's pov like, two chapters ago and I'm sorry, but it's better in Derek's pov. This chapter works within a year and I know you probably want more of what's going on with Stiles and you want to see him progress, but this is what you get. Enjoy it all. :)

Derek didn't want to leave Stiles at the new hospital, but he wasn't allowed to stay like he had been at the other. Stiles couldn't get better for himself if he held to Derek like a security blanket. Stiles had to get better on his own. That's what Derek told himself as he stood next to Stiles for his last full day with him.

"Stiles, I..." Derek wasn't sure what to say that would make things better.

He hadn't been away from Stiles for more than an hour in months and it pained him to have to leave, to let go of Stiles. Stiles was like Derek's own comfort.

"Okay," Stiles nodded and patted Derek's hand.

"I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"Derek," Stiles smiled at him.

"These people are nice, Stiles," the sheriff entered after talking to the doctor. "Don't be scared of them. They want to help you."

Derek swallowed as he squeezed Stiles' hand in reassurance, refusing to let go until the doctor kicked him out.

"Are you hungry?" The doctor asked Stiles who thought for a minute and nodded.

"What would you like to eat? You can have anything you'd like."

"Corn," Stiles looked at Derek for guidance, like he needed to be told what to eat. "Graham crackers... Ice cream."

After the woman left to talk to the kitchen staff, the sheriff spoke quietly to Stiles about what was going to happen while he was there. Stiles didn't protest about staying, but his face fell as he listened to his dad, listened to him say he would be left alone, without Derek or his dad. Derek fought the urge to scoop Stiles into his arms and run out the door. Derek would have if it wasn't important that Stiles stay.

"Dad, no," Stiles whined.

"It has to be this way, Stiles. You need time to heal and this is the place that can help you."

"Please, no. Derek," Stiles turned to Derek for an answer, but there was nothing for Derek to say.

Stiles only found a sad, sorry look plastered to Derek's face. Derek couldn't even fake a smile or pretend to be reassuring in any way, his own feelings of leaving Stiles too painful and strong, taking over everything he had ever built up to hide his emotions.

"It's best if you stay here," he whispered so quietly to Stiles, not wanting to say them at all knowing they would be true, set and stone, when he said them.

Stiles looked back and forth between his father and Derek before turning ghost white and staring at the wall with puppy dog sad eyes. Derek had never seen that look from anyone but Isaac and with Stiles, Derek would rather have his arm ripped off.

"Stiles," his dad moved a hand to his sons arm, but Stiles leaned over the edge of his bed and puked on the floor, apple juice that hadn't settled splattering across the floor.

"I need a nurse!" The sheriff yelled and rubbed up and down Stiles' back to comfort him, not caring about his wet shoes as Stiles gagged and choked on nothing but air.

Derek closed his eyes as he held tight to Stiles' hand, refusing to let it go even for a second. Derek didn't know why, all of the sudden, after all the time he spent with Stiles, in that particular moment, he worried for Stiles' entire life. He didn't want to lose Stiles and having him lay ill in bed made him teary eyed. He hadn't wanted anything more than for Stiles to feel better.

He remembered Cora laying in a hospital bed, sick, clinging tight to her hand the same as he was doing to Stiles. He didn't want to relive it all again with Stiles, but he was. And there wasn't anything he could do to help Stiles. He could only sit back and watch the pain flicker over his face, let him cry out as the nurses sedated him into sleep. Derek felt so helpless and clung to Stiles' hand for his life as Stiles fell to sleep as the sedatives kicked in.

Derek broke his jaw as he clenched it tightly, willing himself not to cry and he didn't even care that his jaw was hot and in pain because his pain was nothing like what Stiles was going through.

~~~~~

Derek had managed to rip the entire burnt out shell of the Hale house down in one afternoon with just his hands. He had practically attacked it after leaving Stiles' side that afternoon, angry at the world of everything Stiles had gone through, everything Derek had gone through. The anger of his entire life put into physical work.

After tearing half of it down, he decided to demolish the entire building, getting trucks to come in the next afternoon to hall away the old, charred wood. He spent weeks going over plans, making new plans for a new house to go up. Derek didn't want help, but each day he went about putting together plans and starting to make a new foundation to set the house on, another pack member would show up, not saying anything as they built the house up together. 

Within three months, the basic build of the house was standing. It sat in a wooden shell for three days before Derek decided he wanted to make it bigger. No one complained as they worked all afternoon and sometimes into the night until Derek decided he didn't want to look at the house and went to his apartment to sulk. The entire pack stayed quiet, even the humans feeling the pain and suffering radiating off from the alpha.

No one knew how to talk to Derek, afraid of him like when each had first met him. They worried deeply for their alpha as they worried for Stiles, both having the most hard time. The only days anyone could fully talk to him about anything was the days he went to visit Stiles on Mondays and Thursdays.

Derek always arrived at the hospital at 3:58, not being able to visit Stiles until 4. He waited those two agonizingly long minutes before charging into Stiles' room not caring about the looks the woman at the desk gave him.

He would go straight to Stiles who always had a big smile on his face the moment he saw Derek.

"Derek, look," Stiles always said, holding up a new drawing.

Derek smiled at the drawing, each time asking if he could keep it. Stiles always nodded and let him take it without a second thought.

Each visit brought Derek more hope than the last as Stiles talked just a little more, smiled or held different emotions on his face. Derek always listened to whatever Stiles had to say, it always depended on what mood he was in whether he talked a lot or not at all. If Stiles didn't want to talk, Derek would ask if he wanted to hear about the house he was building. And even if Stiles was angry or frustrated at Derek, which was often, he would nod and at least pretended to listen to what Derek was saying about the house.

Some days were harder for Stiles. It was rare for Stiles to argue with someone, but he practically took Derek's arm off with a fork one afternoon, about four months into Stiles staying at P.P. (Derek though the name was ridiculous, but even the staff called it that.)

"Stiles," Derek came into the room and immediately moved away from the object flying at him.

He looked down at the floor where the metal fork, no one knew where he got it from since the hospital used plastic, that had been thrown at him landed with a clatter on the tiles.

"I hate you," Stiles scowled.

Derek was almost used to him saying it as he was mad at Derek for leaving for days on end. Derek had tried to explain that he was only allowed visiting hours on Mondays and Thursdays, but Stiles refused to listen. It became a regular thing for Stiles to yell when Derek first arrived, warming up to him as their visit went on.

"Why?" Derek moved closer after making sure Stiles didn't have anymore sharp utensils to throw. Better Derek got the sharp objects thrown at him than a human nurse who would feel the pain for more than a few minutes.

"You always leave!" Stiles yelled, crossing his arms over his chest, avoiding Derek's eyes.

"And what do you want me to do?" Derek sat down in a chair next to his bed, looking him straight in the eye as he was instructed to do by Dr. Ingles when Stiles got upset, which Stiles refused to look back at.

"I want you to stop showing up and giving me false hope."

Derek was less used to full sentences from Stiles, but they weren't unusual as he said more and more each time he visited. When the sentences were more than five words, Derek lost his mind for a second because he soaked the words in wishing for Stiles to keep talking, but the days of Stiles rambling on about random facts for hours was over.

"I'm not giving you false anything," Derek sighed and rubbed his forehead. "We've talked about this. You need to stay here."

"I don't need to do shit, Derek."

Derek stared at Stiles for a minute, not sure what to do or to say. He didn't know Stiles took up swearing in his off time since it wasn't a thing he had done very much at all in the entire time Derek had known him. 6 and a half years.

Derek wondered for a moment where the time went, where he went wrong. If he hadn't pushed Stiles away, told him to go away for college...

Derek knew it was all his fault, this entire situation was completely on his shoulders.

Stiles ripped the remote off the Velcro piece that made sure it was always next to the patient and put Spongebob on his TV without even glancing at Derek.

Derek had known from Dr. Ingles that anger would be a strong emotion from Stiles once he finally did start talking, but some days, Derek was too surprised by his outbursts. Anger was an emotion Derek was very, very familiar with, but it wasn't one Stiles used often.

Unless he was being a sarcastic asshole which Derek missed greatly.

He wondered if Stiles would ever become sarcastic like he once was or if he would be stuck in an angry bubble for the rest of his life. Derek hoped Stiles didn't get stuck in a life of miserable anger like Derek.

Derek watched the talking sponge, focusing more on his annoying voice than his worrisome thoughts.

Stiles was one of the only patients allowed to have activities in his room and his activity he chose was a television so he could watch corny children shows like Spongebob. 

Stiles laid down and turned his back to Derek, something else he rarely did with someone in the room, and watched the TV with an angry scowl, like he was offended and angry at the TV and not at Derek. Derek didn't speak, only stared at the yellow sponge laughing an irritatingly high laugh. Derek jumped, so into the show, when Stiles reached his hand behind his back and gripped Derek's hand in his.

"You're an asshole, Derek," Stiles said simply.

~~~~~

Things weren't easy for Stiles and Derek knew. Even though Stiles was completely pissed off at Derek, Derek still showed up every week on his days and sat in silence in his chair, watching the TV and resisting the urge to curl around Stiles and beg for forgiveness with his nose buried in Stiles' neck.

Derek never left without touching Stiles' hand gently and saying that he'd be back in a few days.

~~~~~~

Derek pulled tight on his hair as he paced back and forth in Dr. Ingles' office. Stiles scowled at him and flipped him off for the third time since Derek had met them in the office to talk. Stiles had never upset Derek more in the entire time he had known the annoying, awkward child. And Stiles hadn't even said a word to Derek yet.

"Stiles, I can't just- it's not," Derek took a deep breath willing himself not to flash his eyes in front of the doctor.

"Stiles has made it clear he doesn't want you visiting him anymore," Kevin repeated.

"Stiles, please. Can't we just talk about this?"

"Derek, he has thought long and hard about this with me and I might not agree that it's the best thing, but he's made himself very clear he doesn't want to see you."

"If you loved me, you would've stayed, Derek," Stiles yelled, still angry Derek didn't visit more. Derek was almost surprised that Stiles actually spoke, but this argument was normal for them, with them doing it for five months straight. Derek couldn't believe it had been eight months since he had arrived at P.P.

"What do you- Stiles, I'm not allowed to stay here. I'm here every single day I'm allowed exactly on time until the second the nurse kicks me out. This isn't exactly me trying to stay away from you."

Chunks of Derek's hair fell to the floor as he pulled them out. He didn't even register the pain that burned over his scalp.

"Why don't you come on Sundays? Those are visiting days!"

"Stiles," Derek took another deep inhale and let the air out loudly through his flared nostrils. "Those are your dads visiting days. It's the agreement. I already told you."

"If you aren't going to come all the days, I don't want you around at all."

Derek let out a hysterical laugh at how ridiculous and child-like Stiles was being. It didn't make him feel any better that he was acting like a child right back.

"Stiles, I-" Derek finally fell into the chair beside Stiles, almost defeated. "I can't do that," he said much calmer that his loud yells. "I'm still coming whether you want me to or not."

"I'll have security come and take you."

"Then I'll sit outside."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, finally looking at him for the first time in a week. Derek didn't care that it was the most murderous look he had ever seen on Stiles, he counted the look as a win on his part, glad Stiles was even noticing him at all.

"I'm not going to stop coming."

Stiles stood up, ready to walk out of the office, but he stopped halfway across the room on his way to the door and turned around, stomping up to Derek and punching him as hard as he could in the face.

Derek stared after Stiles with wide eyes, rubbing at his sore cheek. He spit his tooth out into the garbage knowing it wasn't one of his body parts that would grow back right away, if it grew back at all. Derek had never lost one of his teeth before.

"Do you need a-"

Derek didn't listen to Kevin talk any further as he stalked out after Stiles.

"Stiles, this isn't over!" He yelled through the lobby where multiple outpatients sat reading old magazines.

"I'm done with you, Derek!"

"If you were done, you'd say it to my face," Derek said as he caught up to Stiles.

"Derek," Stiles stopped just outside his door and looked at Derek with a mean glare.

Derek wanted to flinch at the look, but stood his ground as he gave the look right back. He stayed out of Stiles' space, knowing how much of an issue it was. As Stiles stared at him, his face softened out, letting his anger bleed out of his body as he stood in the hallway. Derek opened his mouth to say something, to tell Stiles again that he wasn't not going to show up, but Stiles' movement made him shut it with a gentle click.

Stiles' arms wrapped right around Derek's midsection, Derek stopped breathing as he held his arms away from Stiles. He wasn't exactly sure if it was okay to move or to touch Stiles, not at all sure what the rule was with Stiles since he hated being touched, still flinched when the nurses came close enough to touch him. When Stiles laid his head down on Derek's shoulder, Derek released his breath he had been holding for too long and slowly wrapped his own arms around Stiles' shoulders, holding him tightly to his chest. Stiles jumped at the touch of Derek, but stayed right where he was against Derek.

"You make me feel safe, Derek." Stiles whispered.

They stood in the hallway like that for a long time, Not bothering to move even when the nurse told them they shouldn't loiter in the hallway.

"Thank you," Stiles mumbled into his neck.

Derek squeezed his shoulders, not daring to make the first move of letting go. If Stiles wanted or didn't want to be touched, it was his call and he had to verbalize anything he wanted. Derek knew he had boundaries and he respected them, but he smiled as Stiles held tight to him. Derek was too much enjoying how nice it was to have Stiles touching him again, missing his hugs or random shoulder holds like he had done as a teenager.

Derek had missed the simple meaningless touches of Stiles and he would take any touch he could get, even if he had to get punched in the face everyday for the rest of his life.

~~~~~

Sundays were all day visits from 10 am to 6 pm. Usually it was for siblings to come and visit their sick brothers and sisters or friends to catch them up on the outside world. Derek didn't care if he wasn't a sibling nor really a friend of Stiles, he still went anyway, lounging around with Stiles and the sheriff. Derek never had much to say, just watched the two in front of him.

The sheriff always had a million things to talk about, mentioning every single healthy choice he ate, leaving out the extra donuts he had. Stiles didn't talk much at all, uncomfortable with all the other people in the big room.

They always had Sunday visits in the cafeteria where every other patient talked with their own families. Stiles often glanced around at the others making sure they weren't too close and when there was a loud noise like a laugh or a shriek, Stiles jumped and crowded closer to Derek or his fathers side.

Stiles could barely pay attention to his father when they were in the open space. The sheriff could see it, but didn't comment. John would always grab Stiles' hand in his own as a small reassurance. Stiles always jumped, but made no movement to pull away from the touch. It seemed to loosen him up just a slight bit.

"How's therapy going, Stiles?" John asked him one Sunday afternoon.

Stiles didn't answer, too busy drawing in the sketchbook Derek had bought for him. Pencils weren't allowed for any patient to have, but crayons and crayola markers were okay.

"Stiles?" John sat forward and tried to peek at what he was drawing.

Derek had tried the same thing before, trying to peek at what Stiles was doing, but instead, Stiles moved away not wanting to show anyone until he was done.

"You're about as nice company as a salad without bacon on it."

John sat back in his chair and sipped at his coffee while Derek, next to Stiles, laid his head down in his arms.

The night before, Derek had stayed up the entire night going over paint samples and furniture settings with Lydia who refused to leave until she had everything down to the type of toilet paper Derek wanted. It had exhausted him to great ends and the arguing over what color Derek wanted his room ("yellow will make it bright and lively in the morning. Maybe you won't be so cranky." "I'm not doing yellow. Grey." "That's so boring.")

They had finally agreed to red not because Derek thought Stiles would like the color, but because Lydia knew a great designer who owed her a favor and could make a perfect set of black curtains and a nice red bedspread for him. Lydia had argued against the black curtains, but finally relented when Derek wouldn't stop huffing at the idea of purple in his room.

"Derek," someone spoke. "Derek, you want dinner?"

Derek swatted at the hand shaking his arm to make him wake up. He tried to fall back asleep, but was unable to with the amount of noise in the room. He sat up and yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

He looked down startled when a body pressed into his side. He looked down at the head pressed into his armpit.

"Stiles?" Derek spoke with a groggy voice.

Stiles didn't say anything, just kept his eyes closed and his body pressed close to Derek.

While Stiles had his eyes closed, Derek looked down at the sketchbook laying open on the table. It was an average picture if you just glanced at it, but Derek stared down at the picture closely.

There was a house surrounded by trees and the front of the house had been cut away so each room showed. It took a moment for Derek to really get what it was of. There were people in different rooms, each one representing a different member of the pack. The staircase led to a balcony on the second floor that looked down into the foyer. The living room had three couches and two chairs and a TV that covered the wall. A girl with orange hair which Derek assumed was Lydia, sat in a chair with her feet in the coffee table.

The kitchen was covered in counters and cabinets with Stiles standing at the stove. A few other pack members stood around the kitchen. Upstairs were multiple bedrooms, Isaac in one room, Derek in another. Derek stared down at himself in the drawing. The room was red with black furniture like Lydia had picked. It was odd to see how closely Stiles had drawn to what the new Hale house looked like. It made Derek smile at how well Stiles had actually been paying attention all those months Derek had talked to him even when he didn't think Stiles was listening, though some of the rooms had changed since Lydia had made different plans for the house from what Derek wanted originally.

"I want to see the house."

Derek looked down at Stiles' face. The boy stared down at the drawing with an almost sad look.

"You can see it whenever you want."

"Now."

"Well, not now. You're here."

Derek didn't want to piss Stiles off, but he couldn't lie to him either.

"I'm sick of being here." Stiles whined.

"Stiles."

Derek didn't want to have that conversation with him because Derek didn't want him there either.

"Can't I be an outpatient? I can come back everyday. Please don't make me stay here anymore."

"Stiles, I-" Derek didn't know what to say. "You can't leave here yet."

"But, Derek, I've been here for months! You can take care of me. You can keep me safe. I believe that, I do."

Derek wasn't sure what to do. It took everything he had to not pick Stiles up and run away with him right then and there. Derek hated himself for not being able to say yes. No matter how mean he was or how aggressive, it took a lot out of him to say no.

Especially to Stiles.

"Stiles, you know I can't do that." He answered quietly.

Derek had to hang his head down, staring at his hand entwined with Stiles' in his lap.

"But soon, though, right? Soon I can leave? And you'll take care of me?"

The hope in Stiles' voice made Derek hopeful too, but of something very different.

"You don't know what you're asking me, Stiles."

"I know exactly what I'm asking, Derek."

Derek looked down at Stiles who stared back up at him. For the first time in almost a year, Stiles looked almost like his old self, the one Derek knew as the geeky, klutzy friend of Scott McCall. There was a small glimpse of it before Derek. The one who always knew to fight back against Derek and knew just how to piss him off. The one who saved Derek even when he hated the man.

"I hope you two don't mind I ordered pasta with shrimp for us for dinner." The sheriff came back with three pasta bowls.

Stiles sat up, but didn't release his hand which made for awkward left-handed eating on Derek's part. Derek wasn't ever going to complain.

He even encouraged Stiles to eat almost half of his pasta. Derek counted the visit as a win.

~~~~~~

"So, what does that mean?" Derek asked.

He was seated in an overly expensive leather chair in Kevin's office with the sheriff. Stiles didn't know Derek and his father were there discussing things about him. Derek was told that he would be joining them shortly.

"Stiles will be leaving the hospital next month if he keeps his progress up. He's had a lot of ups and downs, but he's much better now than when I first met him. He'll still need to come back five times a week, but I think he's ready enough to enter society again. Granted, he can't go back to school nor be in large crowds including grocery stores. He mostly will need to be indoors until we've had some testing done on all of the places he can go. He did well on the trip to Staples with the group last week. I think he's going to get through this. He's a strong boy. He was also able to join us at the Christmas party last month when at Halloween time, he hid in his room. I believe he really is trying. He wants to get better, another reason he can try to live outside of these walls."

"So, he's allowed to leave, but he's on lockdown?" The sheriff looked almost skeptical of his sons leaving.

"Well, you have to understand that he will need to leave at some point and doing one step at a time will help him. Going home is a big step up and it'll be hard enough with that step, but I think that last weekends trial of a home visit went well enough."

"He had a panic attack in the bathroom when he heard thunder." The sheriff scowled.

"It won't be for another month and he has to go through uncomfortable things if he really wants to get better. He still hates loud noises and groups of people. That's why I suggested we ease him into leaving. He can do another home visit this weekend and if he does well, we can up his stay to three days. And I also think it'll be a good idea if Derek is around him."

Derek stared at Kevin for a minute not sure what to say. The sheriff didn't seem to know what to say either.

"Why?" The sheriff finally asked.

"Stiles feels safe with Derek. He seems to be slightly more relaxed with Derek in the room and completely oblivious to large amounts of people when Derek is touching him or holding onto him. I believe Stiles loves Derek and he thinks Derek can keep him safe from his monsters whether they are in his mind or in the real world. The way he speaks about him each visit, recalling more memories of Derek than anyone else, well."

"Stiles has loved Derek since the day I arrested this idiot. But is it really a good idea for Stiles to depend on Derek?"

"Stiles needs something. He's already going to be exposed to so many new things. He's gotten used to the routine we've provided for him in the last year, I can't believe I've known Stiles for a year already. It's time he starts his own life again."

Derek watched the sheriff to make sure he wasn't going to get up and choke one of the two people in the room. Derek hoped that if he were to choke someone that it be Kevin, but Derek somewhat deserved to be choked.

He needed to think of anything else that wasn't Stiles and his love for Derek. Derek refused to think anyone loved him. It was an impossible thing to happen and yet it seemed true.

A knock at the door caused all three of the men to turn to see who it was.

Stiles stepped a foot into the door and stopped when he looked at everyone staring at him.

"What?" Stiles crossed his arms in front of himself and hunched over like he wanted to curl into a ball for protection.

"Stiles," Kevin smiled and pointed to a chair next to John. "Have a seat."

"What are you guys doing here? Am I in trouble for that pudding thing because I swear it was Carly who scooped her pudding into my tray without me knowing."

"No, Stiles. This isn't about pudding. We were talking about your visit home last weekend and we think it would be a good thing to try again."

"Oh."

"What do you say? Do you want to try again?"

"I- well, I mean, yeah. I want to go home, but it's just..." Stiles slid down into the chair trying to hide himself.

"We talked about this, I know. It was hard for you to do that, but it's time you try again. It's going to be uncomfortable."

"I don't know."

"Tell me your feelings. What are you thinking?"

"I'm scared to go. I'm safe here. I know there's no one out there who wants to hurt me, but I just, l like being safe."

"Derek is going to stay with you this weekend if that will make you feel more comfortable adjusting. I know you feel much safer with him." Kevin shuffled some papers around his desk.

"I- am I allowed to go to Derek's house? He rebuilt it, you know. I want to go see it."

"I think that we could stop by there for a visit." John said to his son.

"No, I mean, can I stay at Derek's? If he's already going to be with me, why don't I make it easier and go to his place? It's also a lot harder to find. In case, you know, someone is trying to find me."

"Well..." John looked at Kevin for an answer since he wasn't sure what to do.

"Stiles, why don't you-"

"Derek doesn't mind, do you, Derek?" Stiles looked at him and before Derek could answer, Stiles sat up in his seat and looked back to Kevin.

"Stiles, how about you go have lunch in the cafeteria and we will call you back in, okay?" Kevin nodded towards the door.

Stiles tried to get another word in, but stopped and nodded knowing he couldn't argue with Kevin and left the room slowly.

Once the door was completely closed, Derek looked back to Kevin, not realizing his head trailed after Stiles.

"I don't have a problem letting Stiles go to Derek's, but I just don't know how I feel about him staying. He'll get use to it there and he won't be comfortable at home." The sheriff spoke his concern. 

"I- sheriff, I think we need to speak about that." Derek didn't know why he started talking, but he did.

"Derek, if this is some ridiculous shenanigans you're going to try to sell me about him staying, about you thinking he can live with you, I don't want to hear it right now."

"Sheriff, it's not- I-" Derek huffed.

As a kid, he had always known what to say, could get away with a lot with a few words that wooed people over. Even as a teen, he was smooth and could get his feelings out without the jumble of thoughts like he had as an adult. He couldn't say anything now. It was as if he were a robot, he had no idea how to express feeling nor did he completely understand them.

And with Stiles, he got even worse. He liked Stiles. He didn't know where the feeling had come from, but as he sat around with the boy, he realized how much he actually cared, which was the clearest thought he had about him. He didn't understand how Stiles could care for him back or how he was even able to have emotion, but he did. And all he wanted was Stiles.

"Derek Hale, get that look off your face right now." John spat out almost knowing.

John had come to know Derek well over the course of a year and a half, had even spent time with the pack at the house. Derek knew Stiles would be happy to know that they got along well, even when John tried to argue, much like Stiles did, with Derek. Derek could almost see John as a father to him, though he could never replace his own father. John watched out for Derek and knew exactly what his facial features meant.

"Sheriff, please, can Stiles come to my house?" Derek was ready to beg like a child, but he knew the sheriff would give in with just what he said.

"Fine. But I'm coming, too."

~~~~~~

This was Stiles' first visit to the new Hale home. Derek was almost nervous to take Stiles there. He had never really cared of anyone's opinion before, but Stiles' opinion now seemed important. Derek clenched his jaw and squeezed tight to the steering wheel as he drove slowly as to not scare Stiles too much.

Cars still were an issue for him when he was driving too fast. He knew that Stiles' mom had died by a speeding car and that he himself had been in a car accident before returning to Beacon Hills. Stiles emitted a nervous, on the edge, smell.

"Your dad said he would be by later." Derek tried to make conversation.

"Mmm."

Derek rode slowly down the dirt path to his house and sighed in relief when he saw that there was only one vehicle in the driveway instead of seven.

The moment the house came into view, Stiles sat up and stared. Derek wanted to ask if he liked it, hoping that Stiles approved since it was him that inspired Derek to rip the old house away and build new. After more than a handful of minutes of sitting, Derek looked at Stiles.

"You inspired me to do this, you know."

"I- Derek- its..."

Derek didn't want to know if what he was hearing was disappointment, so he unbuckled his seatbelt and headed out of the car, grabbing Stiles' bag from the backseat. Quickly, he grabbed Stiles' hand and made his way up the porch steps and unlocked the doors so Stiles wasn't outside in the open that made him uncomfortable.

The second Derek opened the door, Stiles stepped in, almost eager to see the inside.

Silently, Stiles cautiously worked his was to the kitchen where Boyd sat watching the TV Lydia insisted the kitchen needed. He crunched on a bowl of cereal, waving to Stiles who stared just passed Boyd's hand.

"Is that real granite?"

"Yeah. It was Lydia's idea."

Stiles nodded, looking around for a minute more, and left the room with Derek at his heels.

"We added a fireplace to the living room. I hate the idea of fire in the house, but it doesn't light with real fire, it's electric." Derek had no idea why he told Stiles about the fireplace and wanted to hit himself at how stupid he sounded.

Derek had never been one to ramble, but with Stiles in his house looking and making judgements, Derek really wanted him to approve of what he had done. Derek was anxious and wanted to shake Stiles to get him to speak, to tell him what he thought, but he only watched Stiles look over the mostly empty living room.

Stiles sat down on a sofa and bounced gently before sitting back to test how comfortable it was. Derek wasn't going to tell him that it was his favorite couch and when it had arrived he had been skeptical of it. Now he couldn't sit anywhere else.

"Do you want to see the library? I picked up a few more books that you might like."

Stiles stood and followed Derek through a door next to the living room. The library, which worked as Derek's study, was technically made for Stiles. Derek hadn't told anyone that, but he made sure it was perfect. The shelves were made from a heavy, hard wood to hold a lot of heavy books.

Derek had gone to a lot of different places to find books to fill the shelves. Most of them were randomly picked, just things that reminded Derek of Stiles. Some of them were supernatural books that took months to track down, a lot of little shops in small towns or cities. Not even half the library was full even though the library was small. It was just an extra room, the size of a bedroom in case they needed it.

"What's this?" Stiles picked up a book on the desk.

"Lydia bought it as a- a gift." Derek looked away, almost embarrassed that the book was in his house. "It's probably not a good idea to-"

"Jesus," Stiles said. "Where did she find this?"

As Stiles flipped through the book on sex, Derek remembered what was at the end; a very descriptive note that told Derek to woo Stiles and...

Derek really hoped Stiles wouldn't find the note. If he did, Derek was going to kill Lydia for even thinking of buying such a book, but if Stiles wanted to try some of the things she mentioned, Derek wouldn't mind.

"Stiles, please put that down."

"Look, they even have little drawn pictures."

"Stiles, I'm serious."

"What? You don't like sex? Or the point that I'm looking at something you probably jacked off to? I mean, look!"

Stiles held up the book that had a page full of different positions. Derek raised an eyebrow at him before shaking his head.

"Oh, this is my favorite."

The tone in Stiles' voice confused Derek because it could've been taken as sarcasm or excitement, both scared Derek a little.

"Stiles, put it down."

Derek took the book from Stiles' hand and threw it to the other side of the room.

"So you wanted it for yourself. You could've just said so."

Derek rolled his eyes and walked toward the door hoping that Stiles would follow after him.

The two of them made their way upstairs. By the time Stiles made it to the top, he was out of breath. Derek took Stiles into the first room closest to them which was actually a bathroom.

"Lydia insisted if it was the guest bathroom, then blue was the color. I'm regretting saying yes to her."

The wood floor was real oak wood polished to a slippery, shine. There was no counter space as Lydia installed a pedestal sink that weighed more than the stove had. It was a giant crystal block that was carved. And shelving held towels and different lotions and soaps.

"I, uh, like the decorations?" Stiles touched the frame with a picture of a fish inside.

Fish theme for a bathroom.

"I have my own bathroom in my room."

Derek didn't know why he had to inform Stiles of what he had and what he didn't, but it was better for Stiles to know the entire house wasn't as bad at that bathroom.

Stiles followed Derek into the next room, Isaac's, which was pretty plain with ebony furniture. There were photos of all the pack members in frames placed randomly around the room. A camera sat perched on the desk next to a notebook that laid open filled completely with a small, black print.

"Don't read that, Stiles. It's private." Derek closed the notebook, startling Stiles, before he could read any of it. Stiles frowned at Derek and left the room.

The next two rooms were mostly guest bedrooms, mostly plain and bare of any personal items except for what was left behind for later use.

Boyd's room was surprisingly dirty compared to the other rooms, littered with stray clothes tossed around and stacks of books randomly placed. A stereo playing random alternative music was taking up a good corner of the room.

Derek skipped over a room or two before opening up the door to his own room.

He didn't really have many things, but he did have a picture of his family, the edges burnt, framed nicely on his dresser. Scott had come across the picture when they had been removing the charred wood to rebuild.

"That's Laura, right?" Stiles pointed to a younger version of Laura.

"Yeah," Derek answered after a moment of staring at her.

"And your mom, dad... You... This must've been a really long time ago. You look young."

"I was seven. That was the night before the Forth of July. My dad, he liked the family photos. We had pictures of us on every wall."

Stiles turned around, away from the picture and let his eyes go big before moving to the wall across from him.

"Derek," Stiles whispered.

Every picture Stiles had ever drawn in the hospital was tacked perfectly on the wall, all in order and dated in the corner.

"I like them." Derek shrugged and stood next to Stiles.

"They're terrible."

"No, I like them." Derek repeated. "This one I was thinking of framing."

He pointed to the photo of Derek as the black wolf submitting to the little human in the red jacket. Derek thought it was professionally drawn, or could have been. It was perfect.

Stiles nodded once and scanned over a few more before going to look at something else. He peeked into the bathroom, noticing the black and white, plain bathroom, staring at the jacuzzi for a moment like he was contemplating on taking a bath in. Derek had a few times, falling asleep until the water was cold. He suddenly thought of what it would be like to bathe with Stiles.

Stiles finally sat on the edge of the bed and bounced once like he had done on the couch before moving to lay down. He curled up and hummed as he closed his eyes, his face rubbing into the pillow.

Derek took an unsteady breath at the thought of Stiles' smell mixed on his pillows.

"Let me guess, you have plain, white cotton sheets under this extremely soft comforter." Stiles moved the blanket back to reveal silk black sheets. "Derek and silk. Who would have thought."

"Is that sarcasm?" Derek tried to force the smile playing at his lips away.

Stiles smiled for a moment before laying back down and rolling under the blankets.

Derek wasn't sure if he should leave Stiles alone to nap or stay and lay down next to him.

"Could you stop standing behind me? You're making me paranoid."

"Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry? I could cook if you want something."

Derek had never once in his life felt completely anxious, but he only wanted to make Stiles comfortable and happy. He wasn't sure how to do that.

"Mmm... No." Stiles sounded like sleep was close that Derek didn't bother to talk any longer.

~~~~~~

Derek had no idea how to cook. He knew how to throw together a sandwich and a bowl of cereal. He was able to grill on occasion and pasta was always overcooked.

"Dammit." Derek dropped the knife after slicing his finger. It was a deep gash in his finger, but it healed quickly.

Derek was too busy worrying over the food to hear Stiles approach until he picked up the knife in his own hand and pushed Derek out of the way.

Derek silently moved to the side, finger forgotten as he watched Stiles chop the vegetables quickly. Once the vegetables where small enough, Stiles dumped them into the chicken broth on the stove and stirred before reducing the heat to medium low.

"Never cook soup on high." Stiles informed him before looking in the fridge for something. "Where's the garlic? And fresh parsley?"

"Uhh, I have powdered garlic, I think."

Stiles closed the fridge and stared at Derek for a second before asking where the spices were kept. He dug through the contents of the cupboard, pulling a few items out and adding them to the soup.

"Salt?" Stiles asked.

"Uh," Derek thought for a minute.

The last time he had seen salt was when Allison and Lydia had tried to make cookies, key word try.

"I think its in the cabinet to the left."

Once Stiles slowed down and let the soup simmer, he looked at Derek.

"What?" Derek asked after a few minutes of staring.

"Nothing."

Stiles moved out of the kitchen and made his way into the living room. He quickly found the DVDs and pulled one out to read the back of the case.

"It wasn't that good." Derek said from a couch.

Stiles slid the case back into its spot and pulled out another one, sliding it back even before he fully removed it. It took awhile, but finally he pulled out National Lampoons Christmas Vacation and popped it into the DVD player.

Derek grabbed a spare blanket from the back of the couch and handed it to Stiles who curled up at the other end of the couch. He gladly took it and wrapped himself up and laid his head down on the arm of the sofa.

Derek spent more time thinking than watching the movie. He knew the pack would start arriving soon or at least a few of them. Derek hadn't told anyone that he was staying in the Hale house for two nights and he also didn't warn Stiles that everyone was coming. There were so many people in the pack, a lot less then there was when Derek's family was alive, but there was enough to scare Stiles if they crowded toward him or moved too fast.

It was easier to have one or two people around Stiles because they were easier to keep reminding not to move too fast or get too close to the boy.

Other than the fact that everyone was coming over, Derek thought the day was going surprisingly well. Stiles hadn't completely freaked out or had any panic attacks, though it was a close call trying to get him into the car. Derek had to promise to drive no more than 55 mph and take the main roads where it was almost impossible to have any deer jump out in front of him.

When they arrived at the house, Stiles let off a nervous, almost scared energy that Derek hated. It wasn't a long walk to the front door, but Derek knew it was still the thought of being out in the open where someone could attack him, though Tommy was dead so he wasn't someone they needed to worry about. Once they made it inside, things went well and Stiles seemed to be more at ease than he had before they arrived.

Derek could hear the police cruiser coming down the driveway with another car following close behind. The car was Lydia's which made Derek slightly less anxious. He was glad it wasn't Isaac or Erica pulling up; those two were bound to crowd Stiles or touch him and frighten him.

The door opening up made Stiles jump and turn around to see who it was. His heart in his chest pounded much too fast for Derek's liking.

"It's okay. It's your dad and Lydia." Derek told him to try to comfort him.

Stiles nodded, but kept his eyes on the door to see Lydia clicking her way into the living room.

"I picked up a few things that I thought could make this place look more homey. I don't like Americana decor, but since you painted the living room tan, I thought it could compliment."

"This is more than a few things." The sheriff set down a few more bags with boxes of decorations.

"Return them, Lydia. We don't need anymore decorations, especially ones that don't mean anything."

"Derek, we've talked about this. Until you find little, pointless statues, we need to decorate with something."

"At least the pointless statues will have more meaning than these things. It won't feel like a home if the decorations don't mean anything."

"Tell him I'm right, Stiles." Lydia looked at the boy looking lost on the couch.

"I-uhh."

"Don't fall for it." Derek spoke to Stiles, then to Lydia. "Return them."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, but set one bag down on the coffee table and picked the rest back up and stomped from the room.

The sheriff sat down in the chair beside Stiles and asked him how he was doing.

"Fine." Stiles laid his head back down and watched the movie.

"You always watched this movie on Christmas with your mother. I swear you two couldn't do anything until you watched this. She would always pull you into her lap and throw a blanket over the two of you. I couldn't get her to even turn on the coffee pot before she sat down. Neither of you blinked until it ended."

Stiles smiled slightly at the thought. "She made cookies after that, chocolate chip and cinnamon."

"And you'd eat half of them before dinner. I tried to stop you, but your mother always told me not to bother because then she didn't have to feed you lunch." The sheriff chuckled at the recall of the memory.

The rest of the movie was finished in silence. Derek had heard the rest of the pack come in, but they all used the kitchen door to enter since they could sense Stiles in the house. They tried to keep quiet, but Derek could hear them all whispering and clanking dishes around, setting up for Friday night dinner.

"Derek, I didn't know you could make soup." Erica peeked her head in the living room.

"I didn't make it." Derek looked at her. "It was Stiles."

Stiles shrugged as if it were nothing. "I helped a little."

Derek could tell by how much Stiles shrunk into the couch that he didn't like the attention on him. Derek stood up and waved for Stiles to follow him to the kitchen.

There was a dining room, but no one actually used it, everyone sitting or standing around the kitchen island that also worked as a bar. Tonight, it seemed like the dining room table was actually being used.

Derek wondered if it was because there was always one extra chair at the table that made them not use it. It made sense since the chair was obviously for Stiles, the fact that it sat empty since he set it up made everyone stand in the kitchen instead of stare at the space where Stiles was meant to be.

"I need to cook the rice." Stiles worked his way to the stove, avoiding getting too close to anyone.

"I'll get you some from the cupboard." Allison smiled and grabbed three boxes of the bagged rice.

Stiles stared at the boxes for a moment like it was crazy to cook that much, but nodded as if he remembered that it was a house full of wolves. 

Everyone stood around watching him set up the stove, Allison also finding a big enough pot for all the rice. Derek could hear the slight whimpers from Isaac in the other room. Derek knew he wanted to be close to Stiles, but Derek had specifically told him that he couldn't just tackle him anymore. Isaac had abandoned the kitchen after Stiles had come in knowing he wouldn't be able to stay away from Stiles.

Once Stiles got the rice cooking, he turned to see everyone looking at him.

"What?" He asked.

"I was wondering," Lydia smiled. "Would you help me pick out a stain color for the porch swing. Derek thinks it doesn't need it, but." She shrugged.

Derek knew the complete lie she was telling. She had picked out the porch swing color two months prior.

"Uh, sure."

"Great. I'll go grab the samples from my car."

Scott jumped in with a story about the dog he had saved at the vet clinic and from there, everyone jumped in with stories of their day, Boyd and Isaac coming in from upstairs to join in.

Stiles filled bowls for everyone and stared at a loaf of bread before taking it to the table with the butter. Derek didn't comment on how little was in Stiles' bowl, instead grateful that he was eating at all.

Everyone sat down at the table, sheriff at the head of the table, Stiles then Derek side by side to his left with Boyd and Erica followed. Scott and Allison, Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson on the sheriffs right. Danny was allowed to come around, but he was out of state at a conference.

Derek watched Stiles butter a piece of bread slowly and stick it to the side before taking a very small bite of soup. Derek then turned to the rest of the table and made eye connect with everyone who seemed to be staring at Stiles with big smiles. Everyone looked away, but still stole small glances at him as they chatted and ate.

"This is good, Stiles." Erica told him.

"It wasn't that hard." Stiles shrugged and played with his spoon in his barely touched bowl.

Erica hummed, told him she couldn't ever do anything like it and went back to eating. When Derek thought no one was staring too openly, he leaned into Stiles.

"I won't force you to do anything, but you need to eat."

Stiles nodded and took another bite, even taking a piece of crust from bread and dipping it into the broth.

Derek stood to grab seconds, offering to give Stiles more. It surprised Derek when Stiles told him he did want more. Derek smiled at him and filled his bowl.

When dinner was over, Derek cleared the table and let everyone else exit into the living room to watch TV. Stiles stayed behind and watched Derek pick up.

"Was everyone staring at me because I'm fucked up?" Stiles spoke quietly.

"Stiles," Derek slammed the bowl in his hand down onto the table, cracking it and immediately regretted letting his anger out when Stiles flinched away. "I'm sorry. I didn't-" Derek sighed. "Stiles, you're not fucked up. And even if you were, you make it out like everyone else here isn't. I'm fucked up. Erica, Isaac, Boyd, even Scott, Lydia, we all are here. And that's why we all love you. There's nothing wrong with you."

Stiles stared down at a crumb in front of him.

"Derek, it's not- I AM fucked up. I don't see how anyone could love me. I'm a broken, old, useless body."

Derek resisted the urge to hug Stiles to him and never let go. He hated that Stiles was literally putting himself down.

"Look at me, Stiles." Derek said gently. "Please, look at me."

Stiles looked up slowly.

"You may be broken, but someone else is equally broken. You will get better. You will. Just because that asshole told you all those things does not make them true. He was wrong. You're perfect, Stiles."

Stiles looked away from Derek. Derek knew it wouldn't be that easy for the boy, but Derek felt better getting it off his chest, telling him what he had wanted to say since he had seen him a year and a half ago.

Stiles slipped off his chair and went to join the others in the living room as they watched reruns of Spongebob.

~~~~~~

Derek got Stiles situated in the guest room next to his own. He didn't want him too far away in case something were to happen especially since Isaac and the sheriff were the only other two people in the house. The sheriff slept down the hall and Isaac was out in the woods for a run. Derek made sure to keep his door open a crack because the walls were mostly sound proof and he wanted to make sure that he could hear Stiles loud and clear if he was needed.

Derek listened to Stiles for awhile, listening to the sound of him turn in bed as he struggled to fall asleep. It took almost three hours for Stiles to even slow his heart rate down to sleep. Derek fell asleep after another hour, listening to Stiles and smelling him in his sheets from the nap he had taken. The smell almost intoxicated Derek, making him never want to leave his bed when it was usually he couldn't wait to escape the cold sheets.

The sound of foot falls entering his room brought him out of his light slumber. He sat up in bed and could immediately tell Stiles had come in. He flipped the bedside light on so Stiles could see.

"I didn't mean to wake up. I just, I couldn't sleep in there. It was dark and it's a new place and I kept having this dream about- and..."

Derek threw back the covers and let Stiles climb into his bed. Derek wanted to smile at how cute it was to watch Stiles climb into the oversized bed like a child with a nightmare. Stiles didn't even try to sleep on the side of the bed, he worked his way to the middle where Derek had warmed up the sheets.

Stiles was so close to Derek. Derek could feel Stiles' breath on his face and wasn't sure if he would be able to keep to himself all night. It took everything he had to turn over and shut the light off, turning back over to look at Stiles in the dark.

Stiles had his eyes closed, his long lashes curled up. Derek could feel his fingers twitch to brush against the softness of his cheek and to touch each mole speckling across his face. Derek clinched his fist knowing Stiles wasn't asleep, his heartbeat still too fast.

It didn't take too long before Stiles reached his hand over and grabbed Derek's hand in his. Derek squeezed gently and quickly found his heart slowing down with Stiles'. They both slipped into dreamless sleep for the rest of the night, not even waking when the bed sank down as Isaac slipped in and curled up at the bottom corner of the bed.


	7. We Crave Different Types of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FIGURED IT OUT.
> 
> I had major brain fart for awhile. I had an idea of what I wanted to happen, but I never knew how I wanted to do it, but I've done it. There's a plan for this fic now. :)
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. <3

Derek refused to open his eyes. He knew it was still night since Stiles was still pressed into his armpit drooling and making little odd noises like huffs and whimpers. Derek didn't want to move, but he needed a drink, his mouth so dry.

He pulled away quietly and entered the kitchen to fill a glass, quickly sipping down the contents before refilling it twice more. While sipping at his third glass, he noticed Stiles' school papers spread across the rickety table, too many spread out to not catch his attention. Derek had been in too much of a hurry when he had come barreling in to have sex, intoxicated by the smell of Stiles, when he had come through the door that he hadn't even noticed what Stiles had been doing.

Picking up a pamphlet for the Beacon Hills Community College, he frowned. Stiles had been talking about going away for college, to a nice college that cost a lot of money, so excited to get away, up until Derek and he got together.

"Derek," Stiles whispered in the dark, sleep clearly still upon him. "Are you in here?"

Derek hadn't heard him get up, but there he stood rubbing his eye with a fist, no more than ten feet away staring at Derek with only the light of the street lamp outside lighting enough to see. He dropped his arm back down and stood with his arms dangling at his sides, almost like a small child would if he woke on Christmas morning to disappointment. Stiles stood with gangly legs in Derek's underwear and a borrowed tee shirt. If Derek wasn't so angry, he would go back to bed and cuddle his boyfriend who looked absolutely adorable, but he couldn't just let the issue go.

"What is this?" Derek held the paper up to Stiles who looked like he didn't know what he was talking about, but Derek knew he was playing dumb.

He didn't particularly want to talk about it, but there would've been no other time to do so. Derek was also starting to feel less tired and much more angry as he looked at all the pamphlets with colleges so close to home.

"Derek, can't we talk about that later? It's just something I was considering, nothing major."

"Stiles, this is major. You've wanted to go away for school for awhile now." Derek's voice was much louder than Stiles'.

"Well, plans change." Stiles shrugged, a slight darkness taking over the last bits of his tired voice.

"I won't let you stay here." Derek shook his head and threw the paper, now crumpled, back onto the table.

"You can't tell me what to do, Derek. You already know this." Frustration was clear on Stiles' tongue as he took a few more steps into the kitchen.

"Stiles, you can't stay here just because of me. I can't let you stay here."

"Why? Because then you'd feel guilty? I'm not just staying around for you. I have my dad, Derek. He needs me. I have all my friends here! It's hard to just walk away from something that I finally have, when it took so long to achieve."

Derek hated how upset and angry he had made Stiles. Stiles wasn't Stiles without his sassy tongue and random thoughts. It hurt Derek to argue with his boyfriend, if they were even that. Derek wasn't sure what they were to each other. He didn't know what to think so early in the morning, or late at night, depending on how it was looked at.

Frustration was something Derek did not want to feel in the middle of the night. He wanted to pick Stiles up and bring him back to bed, get more sleep before they sat down and talked about what Stiles wanted to do.

There was still a part of Derek that couldn't just let the issue go, a part of him that was still so stubborn and angry. Feeling all the different emotions he was feeling was still new to him and it scared him.

"Well, you can just leave," after a short pause, he pointed to the door. "Go."

Derek immediately regretted saying it. Stiles gave him an 'are you serious' look before mumbling how much he hated Derek. Derek watched him slide his pants on, scoop up his things from the table and headed out into the dark night.

It wasn't the worst fight they had, barely a fight at all, but both of them were tired and Derek had gotten mad over nothing and he had sent Stiles away from fear of the feelings he had of the boy. It seemed silly after he thought about it, but he was so confused, so conflicted.

Derek never found Stiles alone again and the boy was always the first one to leave if Derek were around. It wasn't until a month before graduation that Derek heard of where Stiles had gotten accepted and by then it was too late for Derek to take what he said back. If he wasn't a stubborn man like Stiles had told him, he would've apologized months ago.

But Stiles packed his things and with a full night of sex and no talking from Derek, he drove off for his new life in a different state miles away.

~~~~~

Derek woke up later than usual. He tried to force himself back to sleep, but already seemed to have slept long enough. In his sleepy state, he rubbed his head into the warmth of Stiles' neck and whined as he stretched his legs out, kicking a lump at the bottom of the bed. He couldn't look down to see what it was since Stiles had thrown half of his body over Derek in the night.

Derek sniffed the air and wanted to growl at the sweet smell of Stiles and his scent mixed in the air. But underneath that was Isaac.

Derek gently kicked the beta with his foot, trying to get him up. Isaac quickly sat up and looked around before rubbing at his sleepy eyes and smiling at Derek, but immediately looked guilty for being caught laying in bed with the two.

Isaac was Derek's favorite beta even though he loved them all. He couldn't really be mad at him for wanting to be close to Stiles after him not being close for two and a half years. Derek suddenly wondered where the time went.

Isaac looked guilty for a moment for having curled on the bed in the night, but didn't say he was sorry or really anything as he slipped off the bed and headed out into the hall.

When he opened the door, Derek could hear the pack in the kitchen, the sheriff yelling at Erica for burning the pancakes and her yelling right back in full force, sass mode. It was nice to hear them together acting like a family. The sheriff fell right into place, treating all of them like his family, just like a part of the pack. It made Derek's heart warm at the thought. 

Stiles whimpered and kicked his legs in his sleep, making his thigh rub against Derek's crotch. He would never admit to anyone that he moaned at the contact of it.

Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek staring down at him. For a second, he looked panicked, ready to scramble away and curl up in the corner, but it melted into a look of slight wariness when Derek whispered good morning, his voice filled thick with sleep.

Stiles closed his eyes and looked like he was trying to fall back to sleep and Derek let him even though he knew the man was never getting back to sleep. Stiles' heart beat slightly too fast.

Finally, after ten minutes of laying still, Stiles moved away from Derek, his own crotch hard. Derek heard Stiles mutter sorry to him.

"Don't be sorry." Derek said back to him.

"Thanks for, uhh. Thanks for letting me sleep here, I guess."

Stiles made no further movement to leave the bed, but made sure he wasn't touching Derek. It would've bothered Derek, but he rolled into his side and stared at the boy who looked uncomfortable.

Seeing wasn't as nice as touching, but the view was perfect.

"Why are you staring at me?" Stiles whispered some time later.

Derek didn't say anything, but let a soft smile come across his lips.

"You're scaring me." Stiles rolled onto his side so he could look back at Derek.

"I'm just looking."

Stiles nodded as if the answer was acceptable enough for him.

They stayed like that in the bed for a long time, just looking at each other, before there was a knock on the door. Stiles jumped and sat up, backing up against the headboard, pushing as far from the door as possible, the blanket clutched tightly in both hands near his chest like it would help shield him from what was behind the door.

"What?" Derek wanted to be mad, but the state of happiness and calmness couldn't allow it. Stiles' scent was like a drug to him, intoxicating him from all the negative.

The door creeped open slowly.

"Oh, thank God you two aren't naked. I thought I was going to walk in and be scarred." Erica smiled viciously at the two. "Breakfast is done. We saved you guys pancakes."

She brought the tray to the end of the bed and set it down as to not be so close to Stiles.

"Thank you, Erica." Derek said, not moving to take it. "Are you and Boyd going today? Isaac too?"

"We were planning on it. Unless there's something else you want us to do."

"No, it's fine. Go enjoy some vacation time."

Erica smiled and moved to hug Derek tightly to her chest. She planted a big kiss on his cheek and whispered in his ear, which made him shove her away with a warning growl at the ridiculous thing she just had to say.

"Have fun today, boys. Stiles, just tickle him if he gets out of line."

"Don't tell him that." Derek whined.

She left the room with a vicious laugh filling the quiet space, leaving Derek and Stiles with a nicely prepared breakfast, a freshly picked flower in a vase as well.

"Are you hungry?" Derek asked him and moved to bring the tray closer.

"No." He said immediately, but seemed to think about it a little more and whispered as if he wasn't sure. "A little."

Derek moved closer to Stiles, sitting up next to him with the tray on his lap. Cutting a small piece of a pancake off, he dipped it in raspberry jelly, Derek's favorite, and brought it to Stiles' mouth.

"Try it. "

Stiles looked at Derek's face and back at the fork.

"Are you sure?"

Derek smiled and nodded. With a little more hesitation, Stiles bit down and chewed slowly. Once he swallowed, he glanced down at the plate.

"Can I have more? Please?"

Derek couldn't help the giant grin that spread across his face and cut another piece off for him, feeding him.

Derek didn't know when feeding Stiles in bed had become a kink, but the boner he got from watching his lips slide down the fork was a definite sign that it was true. Or maybe it was the thought of Stiles' lips skidding down his- Derek stopped all his thoughts right then. He couldn't be thinking like that when Stiles wasn't healthy enough.

Derek took the next bite, letting his tongue slide against where Stiles' had been. Even though the pancakes were cold, Erica knew just how to make them. Derek didn't want to think about the rest of the house, instead going back to feeding Stiles.

"I can feed myself." Stiles said, but it was more of just a statement than him wanting to feed himself.

"Do you want to feed yourself?" Derek offered the fork. "I don't mind." He shrugged.

Stiles looked at it and went to grab it before looking at Derek.

"If you want to."

They sat in bed, Derek alternating bites with Stiles before the stack of fluffy pancakes were gone and all that remained was a glass of orange juice and a glass of milk.

"Milk or orange juice?"

"Milk... Unless you want it."

Derek smiled fondly, glad Stiles didn't take the orange juice; it was Derek's favorite drink. "I like orange juice."

Once breakfast was finished, Derek set the tray on the nightstand and curled back up on the bed, ignoring the ache between his legs.

Stiles laid down next to him and Derek could feel his stare. It didn't feel like a normal stare-into-space stare, but one that felt like Stiles was trying to read him, to understand exactly what Derek was thinking. 

"What?" He didn't open his eyes.

"Nothing."

"That's a lie."

"What are we doing today?" Stiles changed the subject.

"Whatever you want to. We can go somewhere or stay inside. Everyone's leaving today anyway. And later we have to drop you off at the hospital."

"Is it okay if I stay here?"

"You have to go back, Stiles." Derek suppressed his sigh, not wanting to be forceful, but making sure Stiles knew he had to go back to the hospital.

"No, I mean," Stiles looked down at the sheets and drew a random pattern with his finger. "Can I stay here? In... bed with you."

Derek slowly reached his hand to the one Stiles had on the sheets. He wanted to give Stiles time to pull away and didn't want to frighten him before he held tight to his hand. Derek liked the feeling of their hands together. Stiles' fit perfect with his.

"If that's what you want." He didn't want to get his hopes up that Stiles would want to stay in bed, but there was hope in his voice.

"Is that what you want to do? We can go do something if you want."

"Today we can do whatever you want."

"I want to stay here, then."

There was a soft knock on the door again and the sheriff popped his head in. He didn't comment on how odd it was to see the two of them in bed and holding hands.

"Stiles, will you be okay here if I run to the station for an hour?"

"What's going on?" Stiles asked.

This made the sheriff hesitate for a second. "A foster child abuse case."

"Oh."

"The little girl is in the hospital and I told them I could make arrangements for when she gets to leave. We don't know what to do with her. I was... I was going to take her to our house for the weekend until I knew of what I was going to do with her, but then I knew you were coming home. That's most important."

"You can take her home. I'm fine here."

"I'm not leaving you here. I want to spend time with you, Stiles."

"I leave later, anyway."

"It doesn't matter. Today is special. I will be back in an hour and we will be doing something."

"You can bring her here." Derek spoke. "I'll watch her while you and Stiles go do something and later, you can take her home after you drop him off."

"I don't know." The sheriff looked shifty on the idea of leaving the girl and in leaving in general. 

He looked like he wanted to just take Stiles and run away. Derek really hoped he didn't. Derek liked Stiles by his side.

"Dad, go deal with what you need to and if you decide on bringing her here, I'm okay with it."

"Are you sure? You aren't exactly comfortable with new people."

Stiles seemed to think about it for a second, leaving both older men silent as he thought.

"Kevin said I needed to try new things." He finally spoke. "At some point I'm going to have to trust people, right?"

Derek hated sounding like Kevin, but it was important to ask. "How do you feel about someone new coming in?"

"I'm... I'm scared, but it can't be too bad. I can't let it be too bad. I don't want to be scared of every person I meet, so let's try it. How old is she?"

"Her name is Laurel and she's three. Eighty percent of her body was bruised when we found her and she has a broken arm. She's been in the hospital for three weeks." The sheriff sounded sad just thinking about it.

"Oh."

"If you aren't ready to have someone else around, I can bring her somewheres else, Stiles. You're my first priority. Everything else can wait."

"Dad," Stiles looked uncomfortable and seemed to think for a moment. "Bring her."

"You're sure?"

"I'm... I think I'm sure."

John looked skeptical of his son, but nodded and promised to be back, making extra promises that he and Stiles would be doing something before he was dropped off.

Derek wanted to ask what Stiles really thought, but gave him time to think. It was odd of Stiles to want some stranger to come in and be with his dad.

"Do you think dad will be okay?" Stiles looked at Derek like he needed reassurance.

"I think your dad can handle a three-year-old."

"But what if the foster parents show up and they hurt him?"

"Stiles, it's okay. Your dad is a cop. He can handle anything. Don't worry about him."

Stiles nodded and looked down at their hands still clasped together on the bed. Derek rubbed his thumb over Stiles' hand, but didn't move his body or say anything as he watched Stiles.

It was hard to gauge what Stiles was feeling or thinking and it was hard for Derek to ask him since he knew what it was like to be asked those silly, are-you-okay questions. It made Derek want to scream or run because he didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort Stiles, but words weren't Derek's specialty and he was even worse at comforting with touch. Even as a child, he had been terrible at comfort touching. He remembered when Laura had broken up with her first boyfriend and Derek had been the only one there to try and comfort her. He ended up just patting her on the head like a dog.

"You're angry." Stiles stared at him.

"Yes." Derek nodded.

"At me?" Stiles scowled at Derek.

"Not at you. At myself."

"Why?"

Derek wanted to growl, but refrained. He couldn't be angry around Stiles. He didn't want Stiles to feel scared or miserable or any negative feeling. He wished Stiles was happy again.

"Because I don't know how to help you." He finally sighed, letting his anger out with his sigh.

"You are helping me. You have been since I've known you. I might not have known it at the time, but..."

Derek waited for him to continue, but he fell silent and stayed like that.

"But what?"

"Derek, can I tell you something?"

"If you want to."

Derek didn't push him to ask what he wanted, instead letting him think and do it on his own. It was important to not directly tell Stiles to talk. It forced him to think on his own again when he wasn't forced.

"That night you found out I want to go to community college, you were mad at me. And I left. And then I went away for college. Well, I had already been accepted to the school out of state. I just wanted a different option if I didn't like it. And you got mad before I could tell you. And I was too stubborn to argue with you."

"That doesn't make sense." Derek interrupted.

"I didn't want to fight with you, Derek. I knew you needed time to cool off. I was waiting for you to come find me so we could talk about it, but you never did. And then whenever I was around, you looked like you didn't want me there. I was too stubborn to talk to you and you were too stubborn to talk to me. But, anyway, I want you to know it wasn't your fault, for any of this. You didn't send me away because I had already chose to leave. I was ready to go when we had that fight. I know you blame yourself for things, like everything. And I don't want you to think this was your fault."

Derek didn't know what to say to that, so he laid quietly, listening to the house settle as everyone left to go about their own business.

Derek thought back through the years, back to the day he had first met Stiles in the woods with Scott. It had been so long ago and derek couldn't believe how much Stiles had grown. He was still a gangly boy, but he wasn't as clumsy, not as awkward as he was. Stiles was different, he was shy and scared, relearning a few things like a small child, like how to communicate and act around people, and careful unlike he was before. Yet, he was still full of knowledge, still found things interesting no matter what it was. He had always been curious.

"Why do you smile so much now? It's weird."

He was also still very opinionated.

"I've changed, I guess. I'm just glad you're here, Stiles."

"Derek, you're such a sap."

Derek rolled his eyes, but squeezed Stiles' hand gently.

"Go back to sleep, Stiles."

It took awhile for Derek to go back to sleep even though he was tired. It was odd how Stiles made him feel relaxed, like he didn't ever want to leave his bed. Stiles fell asleep quickly, snuggling close to Derek like Derek was his safety.

Derek remembered when he had found out his sister had died, how much he wanted to avenge her death. He had felt nothing but anger for months afterward, losing his closest and only family member left.

Anger was the only feeling he had felt after that. Somewhere between her death and the time he laid in bed with Stiles beside him, something changed. He had grown. It was still strange to feel something new, but with Stiles curled beside him, with the voices of the pack downstairs in his house talking quietly, it seemed okay for a minute.

His heart felt light and warm as he rested his head against Stiles', closing his eyes.

~~~~~

"Derek," someone repeated, pulling Derek from his dream.

Derek moaned and pulled the pillow over his head, ignoring Isaac's voice in order to get back to dream Stiles.

"Derek, you smell like a giant whore house. Your entire room smells like sex." Erica picked up the pillow.

"Leave me alone."

"We're trying to say goodbye, you giant grump. We have to go."

"Bye."

Derek could practically hear her roll her eyes at his quick, leave-me-alone goodbye.

"Stiles told me to tell you he'd see you later for dinner at Morgal's Restaurant. He wanted to wake you up, but we told him we'd tell you and that you'd be there." Erica mentioned as she pulled out a nice dress shirt for him to put on with a pair of black jeans.

"Don't even think about that tie." Derek spoke before she even had time to grab the ugly green tie she had gotten him last year for Christmas.

"What about-"

"Not the blue one either. No tie at all."

Derek sat up and rubbed his eyes as his feet settled to the floor.

"What time did he say?"

"Four. It has to be an early dinner because...you know."

"Where's boyd?"

"Downstairs with laurel. You should see her Derek. She's the cutest kid I've ever seen."

"She is," Isaac confirmed.

"She's just as traumatized at Stiles is. She jumps at everything and cries when someone touches her. It took her two hours to let go of the sheriffs uniform." Erica have a pointed look at Isaac like it was his fault they figured out she was just as scared as Stiles.

"What-"

"Please don't ask." Isaac interrupted before Derek could ask what happened. Isaac turned his head away like he was embarrassed it even was thought of.

"We'll be back Thursday. Be careful around the kid and give our love to Stiles for us."

Erica kissed him on the cheek and grabbed Isaac's hand before escaping out of the door. 

Derek quietly worked his way to the bathroom to shower, even taking the time to shave his beard because he couldn't stand the hobo look anymore. Making his way back to his room, slipping his wallet into his back pocket, he took a deep breath, smelling a thick layer of Stiles' scent filling the air. A new smell made Derek's head fly up to see a small girl sitting very still on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. Derek could smell her fear, could feel it.

Derek smiled at her and leaned against the doorjamb to slid his socks on.

"You must be Laurel." Derek tried to speak to make her comfortable, but small talk and chit chat never came easy to him.

She didn't speak, just watched every move he made as he picked up his pants from the day before and placed them in the hamper.

He stared at her for a long time taking in every bruise and scrap on her. She wasn't as bruised as she must have been, but yellow and brown spots were splattered on her visible skin.

"I'm Derek."

"Boyd say you wouldn' huht me. But you scawy." She whispered and burst into fresh tears, sobbing loudly.

Derek scowled and didn't immediately know what to do. He watched her for a moment, scared to move from the spot he was rooted. His hand immediately flew to his pocket to pull out his phone when he remembered when he had handled a child in New York. Laura had told him to stop thinking so hard about what he was going to do wrong and think about what he would want if he were a child. She told him to go with the parental instincts.

He wasn't sure he had parental instincts.

Derek swallowed and he moved a few steps closer to her slowly.

"I won't hurt you, laurel."

"Ge' 'way from me!" She screamed and scooted back on the bed, crying harder when she moved too fast and hurt her broken arm.

"Laurel, it's okay. Be careful. You'll hurt yourself. Look, I'm staying over here. I'm not coming closer."

As fast as she could with a broken arm and a bruised body, she scrambled off the bed, getting her tangled in a sheet, she tumbled slightly before she slid under the bed and away from Derek.

Derek couldn't hold back the sigh he had. Laying down on his stomach, he peeked under the bed.

"Can I tell you a story?" Derek asked, watched the little girl scrub at her eye.

Taking the silence as a yes, he began to tell her about Stiles.

"Stiles, my- my friend, he got hurt like you did. He's scared all the time and he doesn't like when people touch him. You remind me of him."

"Wha happen to him?" She whispered.

"His, he had an abusive boyfriend. He got hurt a lot. And he was told a lot of bad things. My friend Isaac, he's like you guys too. His dad used to hurt him. But then I took them in as my friends and they're okay now. I take care of them and watch out for them so no one hurts them anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you if you come out. I'll take care of you like I do them. You're safe with me."

Derek waited a moment.

"I promise it's okay to come out."

"Pwomise?" She looked at him for a moment, trying to see if it was a lie.

"I promise. You're safe with me. The sheriff left you in good hands, laurel."

"You know Shewiff?"

"Of course. He's a good friend of mine. Do you want to go have dinner with his son? I think you'd like him. His name is Stiles. He's funny."

Derek left out the part of how he used to be funny.

He was too frightened and serious now to be funny.

"Shewiff be there too?"

"I think so. Do you want to go with me?"

She seemed to think about it for a second before slowly wiggling out from under the bed. Derek moved toward her to get her to standing position and he immediately thought of Stiles' pain as she cringed at his touch.

"Do you have shoes downstairs? You probably need a jacket." Derek didn't know why but the minute he stood up all the way and looked down at the little girl, a million questions popped up into his head and he was grateful she was staying with the sheriff and not him. He didn't know a thing about children.

Did she need a diaper change? Did she even wear diapers? How many layers did she need to go outside?

Derek took a deep breath and walked out of the room, not glancing behind him to see if she was following until he was halfway down the stairs. Laurel stood at the top, multiple steps away from the first step down.

"What's wrong?" Derek looked at her.

Her bottom lip wobbled and he ran back up to her hoping not to see her cry again. It tugged at his heart to see her little face fill with sadness.

Asking her what was wrong was the wrong thing to ask because she took a step back. A few tears trailed down her already tear stained face.

"You don't like the stairs?"

She shook her head and took another step backward.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

Derek began to understand what the others felt when he didn't talk about what he was thinking. It irritated him that he had to keep asking what she wanted, but he didn't get mad. He couldn't get mad if he wanted to meet Stiles for dinner on time.

"Come here. I'll carry you."

Laurel watched Derek for a long moment before hesitantly walking forward until she was a few steps from him.

"I won't hurt you. I promised."

She didn't budge another step. He sighed and barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes before walking up to her and with her permission, scooped her up in his arms and carried her slowly down. She had her head buried into his neck by the time they reached the bottom and she trembled in fear.

"Do you need help with your shoes?"

Nodding, he set her gently down and was relieved when he saw they were slip on flats instead of laced up shoes. He hated lacing up other peoples shoes.

"Do you have a jacket? Anything you need to take? A backpack?"

She pointed to a hook on the wall by the door. Derek grabbed her purple coat and helped her slide it on over her casted arm, super careful not to hurt her fading bruises.

"Shit." He whispered under his breath. "You don't have a car seat." Derek looked down at the little girl who stared up at him like it was his problem, like she didn't have an answer for him. Her entire look was completely blank from any emotion. Derek thought the look was a Stiles look from when he was numb from the world, closed off. Derek's heart ached painfully in his chest. No little girl that age should look like that. She should be happy running around enjoying herself. Instead, she was in pain, scared of every little thing in her life all because of her asshole parents. If Derek ever saw them, he knew he'd hurt them like they hurt her.

"Come on. Maybe John left it outside."

Derek squatted down and let her come to him to be scooped up into his arms. He didn't completely look at her before, but now that his mind wasn't on getting to Stiles as soon as possible, he looked at laurel.

Her green eyes reminded him of his own eyes. The color so perfectly clear like a marble. Her left eye was covered in a purple and black, fading bruise. A cut was covered with a bandaid on her forehead and a scab was on her top lip. Lifting a hand to her long, dark brown hair, Derek smoothed it down and smile at her.

Luckily, the sheriff did leave her car seat on the porch and it only took several swear words and twenty minutes to get it hooked properly into the backseat of the Camaro which wasn't at all meant for children.

With an hour before he had to actually be to dinner, he drove around Beacon Hills with no destination in mind. Laurel sat quietly in the back and stared at her shoes.

Looking at her in the mirror, Derek wondered if she had any other clothes to wear. Normally he wouldn't care what a child wore, but her torn jeans and dirty shirt didn't look that good for a really nice restaurant.

"How about we go shopping for some clothes?" Derek offered.

Laurel looked up and seemed slightly confused by what he was asking as her eyebrows fell into a scowl.

Derek smiled to reassure her and drove to a children's store which was harder to find than he thought. But once he pulled up in front of one, he pulled her out and felt her tense and her eyes scanned around the parking lot. It wasn't particularly busy, but she looked around anyway.

"No ones going to hurt you. I've got you."

Derek thought it would be best if he carried her instead of having her walk, afraid he would lose her. It was awkward for him to walk into the store seeing as he didn't know anything about baby clothes.

"Can I help you?" A sales woman smiled at him. "Oh, god! Is she okay?" The woman gasped as she saw the bruise on her face.

"She's fine." Derek grumbled.

The woman looked at the counter were someone else was standing, looking like she was ready to call the police.

"She's an abuse case. She's staying with me until we find her a home. Not like it's your business." Derek snapped at her.

She smiled at him and then began to apologize, telling him how cute she was and how much she was glad he was taking good care of her. He couldn't stand her gushing about how much of a good parent he was.

Derek could immediately tell she was going to be one of those sales woman that followed him around and whispered about him, how good looking he was and how much she loved how nice he looked. He wanted to roll his eyes at her. She tried to pull down her shirt without him seeing so her boobs hung out slightly more than they were. Derek felt completely disgusted by the woman.

He didn't particularly want her help, but he didn't know what he was doing, so he looked at her and smiled.

"Uhh, yeah. I need help. I need clothes. Something nice for laurel to wear to dinner tonight."

"Ah. Do you know what size she would need?"

Derek scowled and shook his head at her not even thinking she would need a certain size. Didn't all babies wear the same size?

"Well, how old is she? We can work from there."

"Three."

"Right. Come this way and I think we can find something."

Derek was led into the land of pink. He had never been near so much pink before and if Stiles had been around, he would've laughed at how ridiculous he probably looked with his leather jacket and scary eyebrows surrounded by pink.

Laurel had her head buried painfully into Derek's chest and her good arm wrapped tight around his neck.

"Do you have a specific taste? A color you might like?"

Derek scowled further, looking around at all the tiny clothes.

"How about that?" Derek pointed to a purple shirt with a puppy on the front.

The lady smiled at him like he was pathetic and shook his head.

"How about I pick out a few things and she can try them on to see what you like best?"

Derek nodded hoping she would leave him alone. She was the most annoying sales person Derek had ever been around. Usually sales people didn't talk to him, usually too afraid.

"Sit down in a chair and relax. I'll be right back."

Derek didn't sit down. He watched the woman disappear in the back before looking at the racks around him. He couldn't believe the amounts of pink that surrounded him. It was like a sea of bright pink.

Stepping away from the way too bright fabric, he scanned around him ignoring the other employees ogling him. Spotting something black, he gravitated towards it.

Inspecting the leather jacket, he lifted it up and turned it around. It looked funny in a place like that, but he liked the jacket. Derek couldn't believe he even thought the word, but he thought it looked cute. He set it back down when he heard the woman coming back.

He turned to her and saw that she had more than one or two outfits, but an armful.

"I didn't know what style she usually wears, so I grabbed a little of each style. The dressing rooms are in the back. Tell me if you need anything else."

"Thanks." Derek huffed and pulled the armful of clothes to him with his free arm.

Making his way to the dressing room, he looked back at the woman who helped him. She was whispering about him to her friend at the cash register and Derek was glad laurel wasn't a werewolf because the things she was saying were downright filthy.

He bent down to set the child on the ground, but she only cling tighter to him.

"Laurel," Derek tried to use a warning tone, but she only whimpered into his neck. "I won't let them hurt you, but you need to try these one. Please, I'll be right here."

Laurel refused to be set down and it took some prying of her delicate arm and a lot of reassurance to get her to stand up on the floor, but even then, she gripped tight to Derek's jacket.

"Do you like any of these?" Derek said as he hung up the choices on the hooks that were in the dressing room.

Laurel stared at Derek for a minute before pointing to one. Holding the dress up, he examined the green fabric. He didn't know a single thing about children's clothes, but he liked the light green and white fabric. It was simple with a flowered ribbon in the middle and it flared at the bottom.

Helping her with her coat and being careful with her arm as he slid her shirt off, he carefully slipped the dress over her head. Flattening the edges, he smiled at her when she grabbed his hand so he didn't leave her.

"How's that?" Derek took her hand in his and watched her move to the mirror.

Laurel looked in the mirror and her entire face lit up as she stared at herself.

"It's so pwetty." She whispered and pulled her hand from Derek's, gently ran her good hand down the length of it.

"Do you want to buy it?"

"Rweally?" She stared at him in disbelief.

"Come here so we can get it off and pay for it."

Derek's stomach felt funny as he watched the little girl stare at the dress. It was almost like she had never gotten a new dress before. Derek wondered to himself how terrible her life must've been before she was saved. She seemed to only have negative emotions. And Derek knew a lot about those. But she was just three years old. Someone that young shouldn't already know the struggles of life. And it hit Derek hard that she was didn't have a normal childhood.

"Let's try this on next." He held up a mustard colored hooded sweatshirt with a pair of jeans.

"Okay." She said as they slipped the dress off and hung it back on the hanger.

Three outfits later, laurels stomach growled loudly. Derek couldn't help but laugh.

"You're hungry?"

Laurel ducked her head down and wouldn't look at him. She looked like she was being a burden that she was hungry.

"Let's get out of here and get something to eat."

She smiled softly at him and held her arm up so Derek could lift her. He grabbed the clothes she tried on and liked and headed to the counter.

"Will this be all?" The lady smiled at him.

Derek glanced over at the leather jacket and decided he should get it. He stared at them for a moment, unsure of what size when the woman appeared and pulled one out for him.

"Thank you." He nodded.

They walked back to the counter and she began ringing up the items when she held up the yellow sweatshirt.

"This has a matching pair of shoes if you want them. They're really cute. I got them for my niece last week. She loves them."

Derek nodded at her and let her step away from the counter. In his arm, laurels stomach growled again and he moved his hand to her hair.

"We'll leave in a second, okay?"

Her head moved up and down against his chest as she nodded. Once the woman was back with the shoes, Derek paid for everything and left as quickly as he could so he didn't have to hear the women talk about what they'd do to him anymore. He had never been so turned off by sexual fantasies in his life.

"Let's put your dress on now, okay?"

Derek sat her down in the drivers seat and pulled out the dress. Helping her, they managed to get her dressed within a few minutes and in her seat with ten minutes to drive across town.

"Dewek?" Laurel asked quietly in the backseat after a few moments of silence.

"Hmm?" He glanced at her in the mirror watching her bounce her legs.

"Tank you fow da dwess."

"You're welcome." He smiled at her and let the car fall into silence.

"Dewek?" She said a moment later.

"Hmm?"

"Can I have mac and cheese?"

"If that's what you want, yes."

She smiled at him with a big, toothy smile and Derek couldn't hold back his own. Derek would never admit how much he found her adorable.

They arrived at the restaurant two minutes late and the moment laurel got out of her seat and saw all the people, she immediately squeezed herself as close as possible to Derek and buried her head in his chest like she had every time there were people around her.

They made it into the restaurant and found Stiles and the sheriff in the corner waiting for them. Stiles' head scanned the room every few seconds and watched each persons movement. The place didn't have too many people in it, not like it would be if it were later in the evening. Walking towards them, Derek reassured laurel that she'd be fine and that the sheriff was here to see her along with Stiles.

"Derek!" Stiles smiled the moment he saw them walking towards him, his worried face completely gone as he watched them walk closer.

"I see laurel took a liking to you." The sheriff said.

"Do you want to sit down in a chair?" Derek whispered to her.

She shook her head and tightened her fist around his shirt. Derek sat down, allowing her to stay in his lap.

"Sorry we're late. We stopped by the store."

"No worries." Stiles smiled at him softly.

"Hey, laurel? Do you want to say hi to everyone?" Derek asked her.

"Hey, kiddo." John said when she peeked her eyes to see who everyone was.

"Hi." She whispered.

"This is my son, Stiles." Jon pointed to him.

"I told you about him. He's friendly, I promise." Derek told her.

She turned her head around to see him, but didn't make any further movement from him.

"Uhh, hi." Stiles looked at her like he wasn't sure what to do.

"You'ah like me." She said.

"Uhh," Stiles looked at Derek and to his dad before looking back to her. "I guess I am."

The table fell silent for a moment. Stiles and laurel stared at each other for a long time. To Derek, it looked almost like they were communicating to each other. Laurel made a soft smile at him before turning her head back to Derek.

"Do I stiw ge mac and cheese?"

Derek smiled at her and nodded.

"I see you two have bonded. We won't ever find her a home if you latch on. Unless you want to adopt her." The sheriff looked hopeful that he would.

"She has your eye color," Stiles stated and turned red after he realized what he said. "Sorry." He shrugged. 

It was quiet for a moment, no one knowing what to say. The waiter thankfully arrived and asked everyone what they wanted. John ordered for Stiles who immediately froze up and moved his down toward the table cloth, though his eyes were glancing up to make sure the waiter didn't advance on him. Derek order for himself and laurel who whimpered as the waiter stood next to Derek.

"I'm not going to be able to drag her away from you." The sheriff commented, hinting at Derek secretly that Derek really would take her.

Derek didn't say anything to that. He didn't think he was being that odd with her. He was just watching out for her like he was suppose to. Derek ignored the sheriffs words and his knowing look.

Derek hadn't realized it, but he was staring down at the top of her and rocking her slightly. When he heard the sheriff speaking again about how good of a parent Derek was being, he looked up, almost lost as to where he was.

"She's a good kid." Derek stated and continued to rub her back.

Stiles stared fondly at the two for a moment before snapping his head up to someone who was walking outside the window.

"So, what did you guys do today?" Derek asked trying to get them to stop talking about him.

"Well, Stiles decided he wanted to go to the park." The sheriff raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

"Yeah, it didn't go so well." Stiles tapped his fork on the table like a nervous habit, sort of like it was keeping him sane from a panic attack.

"He had a panic attack when a lady jogged by him. I had to drag him back to the car."

"We went to the house after that and watched a movie. Have you seen Horrible Bosses? It's really funny."

"He laughed for ten minutes after it ended."

Derek immediately wanted to hear Stiles laugh. He missed it, how it used to be full body laughs that made him fall off the couch. Derek missed how it used to ring out loud and filled the room. Derek always rolled his eyes when it happened, but he always secretly loved it.

Derek hadn't realized he'd been staring at Stiles until laurel placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

"I ha to pee."

Derek stared down at her before realizing what she said.

"Oh." Derek stood up. "We'll be right back."

It was weird taking a girl into the men's room, but it was a quick in and out and they were seated back at the table when the food arrived. Stiles looked down at his steak for a long time, everyone else already digging in when he thought to pick up his fork. Derek watched every bite he ate, smiling when Stiles looked up at him.

"Dewek," laurel pulled gently on the front of his shirt. "Can I sit by Siwes?"

"Ask Stiles if he wants you to sit by him."

"Siwes?"

"Hmm?" Stiles looked at her and couldn't keep the small grin from forming on his lips.

"Can I sit by you?"

"Of course. Here." Stiles pulled a chair closer to him and patted the seat.

Derek deposited her in the chair and moved her food closer to her so she didn't have to reach for it. It almost made Derek miss her as she wasn't placed on his lap anymore.

It was a quiet meal for awhile. Derek kept an eye on laurel, smiling every time she eyes Stiles' fries. She was like a puppy whenever he lifted one to his mouth, she would follow the fry. After a handful of fries, Derek couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.

Everyone turned to look at him with puzzled faces.

"I think laurel wants a fry, Stiles." He chuckled again as laurel looked hopeful she'd get one.

Stiles turned to look at her, studying her for a moment before asking her if she wanted one. When her headed nodded frantically, looking like it was going to fly off, he smiled and placed a few on a napkin. Before he could finish sliding them closer, she had one in his mouth, munching loudly on it.

Everyone else laughed at how cute she was as she managed to eat them all within a few moments and reached for Stiles' plate for more.

"Hey, get your own fries!" Stiles whined at her and when she flinched away from him, Stiles' face fell and he handed her all of his fries.

"Way to be assertive, Stiles." Derek mumbled so Stiles couldn't hear him.

"What did you say?" Stiles looked at him, confused.

"I said, way to be assertive."

"Can I borrow one of these, laurel?" Stiles asked the young girl, taking a fry and winging it at Derek when she nodded.

"You're suppose to be on my side, laurel." Derek said, picking up the fry in his lap and throwing it back at him.

Stiles squinted his eyes at Derek, but made no movement to pick the fry back up. Laurel's head whipped back and forth between the two of them as they had a stare off. The sheriff only shook his head and ate away at his steak, ignoring the two.

Derek stuck his tongue out at him and continued to eat his burger.

"That's real mature." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"You started it." Derek said, looking at his burger.

The fry landed in Derek's drink with a little splash. Derek stared at it for a moment, watching it soak up his water before he looked up at Stiles who had the biggest shit eating grin spread across his face.

"Don't you even think about throwing that wet fry, Derek." The sheriff looked at the glass and warned him like he was a child.

"Yeah, Derek, don't you think about it." Stiles stuck his tongue out.

"Yeah, Dewek!" Laurel said, joining the two Stilinski men.

Derek scowled at Stiles before turning to laurel.

"I thought you were on my team."

"She's on mine since I'm cooler than you." Stiles said with a small grin.

Derek huffed and finished his burger, grabbing Stiles' Dr. Pepper to wash it down.

"Hey!" Stiles protested.

"You threw a French fry in my glass."

"That is true, son." The sheriff nodded and waved the waiter over.

"Will you be wanting the check or dessert?"

"Laurel, do you want dessert?" The sheriff looked at the little girl who had cheese covering fifty percent of her face.

She nodded, but kept her eyes down and away from the waiter. While the sheriff ordered some cheese cake for the two of them, Derek and Stiles both declining dessert, Derek pulled the girl back into his lap and wiped the cheese away.

"I ordered the dessert to go. Stiles has to get back to the hospital soon."

Stiles sighed at the news, but didn't protest or argue. His steak was almost gone and Derek felt a surge of joy that he ate so much, granted, he didn't eat very many fries or any of his green beans, but it was more than he normally would've eaten.

Once the check was paid for by Derek who insisted, they grabbed the dessert and walked out to their cars.

"Do you want to take her now or..?" Derek asked looking down at the girl snuggled in his arms falling asleep.

"How about you take her for now and I'll grab her at the hospital when we're done with his appointment?"

Derek felt his chest loosen, not remembering it ever feeling tight to begin with. He carefully maneuvered laurel into her car seat without waking her up.

"So you're going to be at my appointment, too?" Stiles crouched to see Derek through the window.

"I won't go if you don't want me to." Derek looked at him.

Stiles smiled at him.

"No, I want you to come," Stiles' cheeks turned bright red. "I mean, I want you to go. Not... Oh god. Just, meet us there."

"Stay safe, Stiles." Derek grinned and watched Stiles climb into his own car, ducking his head and groaning about how he couldn't believe he had said that. Derek just threw his head back and laughed.

*****

Kevin was still just as weird as the day Derek met him. Granted, Derek liked him slightly more than he had, Kevin still was an annoying asshole who smiled too much. And as much as Derek loved being there for Stiles, he didn't like that Kevin made him talk about his feelings or how he felt when he did so and so activities. Derek was a private guy. He didn't like people knowing his business nor did he like when other people had to know about everyone else's business. 

Stiles replayed his time away from the hospital, telling Kevin everything his did, all the things he felt, how much he actually liked being away although it was hard to adjust. Stiles talked for an hour. Derek smiled when Stiles looked at him every few minutes.

They were about to go over next weekends plans for spending the whole weekend away when the sheriff's phone began to ring. He hit the ignore button even when Stiles told him he could answer it. By the third call, the sheriff took it and left the room. Stiles looked at the door with a worried expression. After a minute, the sheriff came back with a sad look.

"Stiles," the sheriff started.

"Dad, it's okay. Go." Stiles smiled at him. "You have a job to do. Save the world, dad."

"My first job is to take care of you."

"And you did. Now go save everyone else. I'll be okay."

Stiles stood up and hugged his dad, squeezing him tight. It was weird seeing Stiles hug someone even if it was his dad. It had been a long time since Derek had seen Stiles deliberately hug or even touch anyone that was more than a hand hold.

"What about laurel?" Derek asked, remembering the little girl.

The sheriff looked at Derek, then to the little girl passed out against Derek's chest and his jaw clenched together like he was conflicted, but it only lasted a split second before he looked back at Derek.

"Do you think-"

"I've got her." Derek nodded at John.

"Thanks Derek."

The sheriff left with a quick goodbye leaving Derek and Stiles with Kevin who had to begin talking about how Stiles felt with his dad leaving so quickly. Kevin asked what Stiles would do when he went back to living at home and his dad got called away like that.

It didn't seem to bother Stiles, all the questions being thrown at him, but it crawled under Derek's skin. Derek hated the personal questions. And there were so many questions that Derek couldn't keep his head straight. He tuned Kevin out and stared down at laurel who drooled on his shirt as she slept.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, Derek." Kevin observed them.

"Oh, she's not mine." Derek answered. "She's actually... She was in an abusive home. The sheriff is going to look after her until they find her a home."

"I believe she's already found her home."

Derek scowled at Kevin for a moment trying to figure out what he meant. Derek didn't understand, but when he did, he could feel the shock fall over his face.

"I've only known her a day. She's just staying with me while the sheriff works." Derek stated.

"Do you really believe that Derek?" Kevin kept his eyes on Derek the entire time making Derek feel like he was a tiny ant about to be smashed by a giant foot.

"I- well," Derek stuttered.

Kevin smiled and turned back to Stiles.

"So, are you ready to go back to your room?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could show Derek my sketchbook before he left."

"Of course you can. Just remember he can't be here after eight."

"Thanks, Dr. Ingles." Stiles stood up and waved Derek to follow him. Shifting Laurel to his hip, he followed Stiles down a hall he'd never been down. The walls were painted with murals and had different pictures hung up. Derek noticed one in particular and stopped to look at it.

It had to be Stiles' work because it was definitely his style, but what threw him off was the drawing. Derek immediately recognized himself. He stood in the woods like in most work Stiles did, but in this one, Derek was a human. He stood up straight and his head was angled so he was looking to the right. If someone wasn't paying close enough attention, they would miss the red hooded person standing behind a tree in the back on the picture.

"I forgot this one was out here." Stiles stood next to him looking at his own picture.

"I like it."

"You like them all." Stiles stated.

Derek nodded at this and turned to walk the way Stiles had been before he had gotten distracted. Once Stiles had led him into a room and flipped on the lights, Derek was surprised. The room was covered in paint. The tables, all the furniture, everything in the room was an art piece. The floor tiles each had a different design and the ceiling was painted. It was dizzying to look at all at once, but if each piece was looked at individually, it was absolutely stunning.

"Wow, this place-"

"Is really confusing and hurts my brain." Stiles said. "I know."

"That's- yeah. It is."

"Come over here. I'll show you my stuff." Stiles said walking across the room.

Derek followed him and watched Stiles pull out his book.

"Don't be surprised that they're all werewolf or pack related."

Looking down, Stiles flipped through the pages as Derek watched. A lot of them where of the pack as humans or wolves. It was scary how detailed the drawings were since none of them posed for him. A lot of them were of Derek which made Derek smile softly at them. Stiles carefully watched Derek's expression as he looked over each one.

"Is that the Kanima?" Derek asked.

"Yes. I had to draw at least one of Jackson as an animal."

Derek nodded slowly and looked at the next sketch. They were all pretty much the same. The pack in the woods or on the couch. Some looked like photographs of them posing. The one of Scott and Stiles on the couch sticking their tongues out was definitely a photo Derek had seen. It was hanging on the fridge in the kitchen, Derek remembered.

"These are really good." Derek flipped the page.

Before he could flip the page again, Stiles put his hand on Derek's to stop him.

"The next one," Stiles paused as if he were uncomfortable. "It's- I sometimes have these dreams and this next drawing is from one I had about three months ago. So, don't be freaked out."

"Why would I be freaked o-" Derek stopped mid sentence as he looked.

Derek was looking down at himself like he always did. That wasn't the weird part about the picture. Derek was wearing a dress shirt just like he was as he stood next to Stiles and in his arms was a little girl who looked startlingly like Laurel. Stiles did this sketch in full color unlike his normal black and white with a hint of color.

"You did this three months ago?" Derek asked as he scowled down at the picture.

"Yeah?" Stiles looked up at Derek confused.

"Stiles," Derek looked at him. "This is me and laurel today. See? She's wearing this dress." Derek pointed at the dress.

Stiles stared down at the paper and up at the girl. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' shape and he met Derek's eyes.

"That doesn't make sense since I didn't- wait, what about..." Stiles flipped the page.

There were eleven drawings after that first one, all with laurel and Derek.

"Stiles, this is-"

"Weird." Stiles finished for him.

Derek nodded and ran his hand over the last picture. It was odd because in the very last sketch, Derek had a smiling laurel, a bit taller and older next to him with Stiles at his side also smiling, like it was a photo. Both Derek and Stiles had on black tuxedo tops and red pocket cloths in their pockets. Laurel looked a little older, but had on a red dress as well.

"Wait, I have one more picture. It's not exactly done, but I guess I can show you."

Stiles pulled out a different sketchbook seeing as the first one was full. He flipped it to the first picture. Derek and Stiles stood together, their arms wrapped around each other's backs. Stiles had his head thrown back as he laughed. Four kids sat around their feet. It confused Derek since the picture wasn't done, but laurel stood by Derek, holding onto Derek's free hand. The other three didn't have faces yet, but they were all different ages, all wearing black and red.

"Stiles, what is this?"

Stiles shrugged and looked down at his work like he was worried about it.

"I don't know. I told you. It was a dream. Or I thought it was." Stiles whispered and cleared his throat before he slapped the book closed and took them back to their spot.

Stiles was clearly concerned about his art. Maybe he regretted showing Derek.

"Stiles-"

"I think its time for you to leave. It's almost eight." Stiles said before disappearing out the door.

Derek didn't understand what was wrong with Stiles, but he was obviously not okay. He worried Derek because he had made so much progress in the year since he had been at P.P. Some days were tough to get through, but Stiles was making progress. He genuinely wanted to get better, but Derek suddenly felt like he had ruined that.

Not worrying too much more about it, he ducked into Kevin's office before leaving and told him what had happened. Kevin reassured Derek that he'd speak with Stiles and let Derek leave feeling slightly better.

But something definitely wasn't right.

*****

Derek wasn't sure what to do with a three year old. He could take care of himself, barely. It was hard to take care of another person, especially when that person was tiny and couldn't really do much for herself. He didn't have toys and he wasn't sure what she liked to watch on tv. He knew that he couldn't feed her chips and soda, so he knew he had to go grocery shopping. Usually it was the pack that did the cooking and shopping, but they were all doing their own thing for once. He knew he could call them, but he didn't want to disturb them.

He was lucky laurel was asleep because he wasn't sure what he'd do when she woke up. Standing at the kitchen island, he argued with himself over whether he should call Lydia or not. As he listened to laurels heart rate become faster as she woke up, he dialed the number.

"This better be good, Hale. I'm busy."

"Lydia," Derek sank against the counter. "What do I do with a three year old? What do they like to do? I don't know what to do and she's waking up-"

"Derek, first, you need to calm down." She whispered to herself. "God, stop hanging out with Kevin. He makes you crazy."

"Thanks, Lydia." Derek said sarcastically.

"Here's what you do. Turn the tv on to nick jr."

When Derek didn't answer, she sighed.

"You have no idea what that is. Okay, just find a children's tv show. Something animated."

"Tom and Jerry." Derek said.

"That's fine. And then you sit on the couch with her and you watch that show with her. I'll be over when I'm done with this formula. Don't do anything stupid."

"Okay." Derek agreed and hung up the phone.

He gave himself a small pep talk, reviewing what Lydia had said. He could watch tv. That wasn't too hard.

He set his head against the cool counter and sighed. He didn't know why he had agreed to watch her, but he obviously had no idea what he was doing. It wasn't like she was a werewolf and they could go outside into the woods. Derek remembered when Cora was a baby and she always played tea party. Derek had cups. He could do tea party. But they weren't fancy plastic cups. What if she dropped a glass one and it broke and hurt her?

Derek had a stuffed animal she could play with, but he didn't see how fun that could be. Plus, it was his favorite stuffed animal Stiles had given to him while they had been dating. He didn't want it to be ruined.

Derek's head snapped up the moment he heard the sobs. Before he could think about it, he was in the living room kneeling in front of the couch.

"It's okay, Laurel. It's okay." Derek rubbed her hair.

She screamed when he touched her and he flinched away, forgetting that she didn't like unwanted touching like Stiles.

"It's just me. It's Derek. I won't hurt you. It's okay. You're safe here. No one can hurt you." He muttered as many comforting things to her as possible.

He didn't know how long he spoke to her in a soft voice, but finally, her sobs turned to hiccups and she crawled into Derek's lap. He pulled her tight to him and rubbed her back as he rocked her, letting her come down from her panic.

Derek didn't hear Lydia pull up, but knew she was there the second her perfume filled the room. He looked up at her and put a finger to his lips to keep her quiet.

"How cute. Daddy Derek to the rescue." Lydia smiled and sat down in a chair, letting her purse and a grocery bag fall to the floor by her feet.

Laurel tensed at the voice and sobbed again into his chest.

"Lydia, shut up. Laurel, why don't you meet Lydia? She's nice." Derek scowled at Lydia.

"I brought you something, Laurel. I hope you like gifts because if not, I'll have to take it back."

Laurel sniffled and hiccuped before turning her head to peek at Lydia.

"She's nice." Derek encouraged.

"Wha is it?" Laurel whispered between hiccups.

"Here," Lydia scooted the bag closer with her foot until it was within reach. 

Laurel stared at the bag for the longest time before she reached for it and pulled it towards her. She leaned into it, pulling out a DVD. Derek looked at the cover of The Little Mermaid and frowned. It had been Laura's favorite movie. Laurel smiled at the gift and reached into the bag again to pull out another DVD of Beauty and the Beast.

Laurel gasped and looked from the movie to Lydia and back several times.

"I wove dis movie!" She whispered in excitement.

"Then you'll totally love the next gift in there." Lydia nodded to the bag.

Reaching into the bag again, she pulled out a nightgown with the two characters on it. And Derek couldn't help but sigh at the last movie she pulled out: Hoodwinked.

Stiles had made them watch that movie everyday for two months before Derek snapped the DVD in half. Lydia knew how much Derek hated it.

"I hate you." Derek mouthed and scowled at Lydia.

"That's Derek's favorite movie. He loves it because little red reminds him of Stiles."

"Can we wat it?" Laurel held it up to Derek with her tear stained cheeks and watery eyes.

Derek couldn't say no to her, so he nodded and lifted her up, moving to the tv to put it in.

"Are you staying, Lydia?" Derek asked as he sat down with laurel in his lap.

"No, I'll leave you two to your movies. I'll stop by in the morning to make sure you're alright. Just make sure she eats in the morning. Three year olds eat more than a skinny, werewolf who nibbles at a protein bar. Have fun, laurel. Tickle him if he gets out of line."

Laurel nodded and thanked Lydia for the presents before curling up to Derek and watching the movies previews.

Through the entire movie, Derek could hear Stiles' voice in his head ruining the entire movie with his big mouth. At one part, Derek actually groaned remembering the awful pun Stiles always said. Laurel giggled at how silly the movie was, laughing a loud belly laugh when Derek told her that Stiles thought Derek was the wolf. He even pretended to growled at her, which caused her to tense up and get scared for a moment before she realized he was only pretending.

She fell asleep halfway through Beauty and the Beast after watching The little mermaid. Derek was almost asleep when he heard a car pull up outside. Gently rolling her on to the couch, he looked out the window to see Scott and Allison pull up. He knew he wasn't expecting them. He hope everything was okay, only worrying for a small second that there was some magical creature out there coming for them.

He went outside and stood on the porch, wondering what they were doing at his house at one am.

"Sorry. I told you we should've called first. Look, Scott. He's mad."

"Sorry Derek. We actually were just hoping you had a little bit of room for us to stay a few days. We found a mouse in the apartment and they're going to start putting in the flooring tomorrow and- can we stay here? It's last minute and- never mind. We can stay in a hotel."

Derek rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. Scott knew he was welcome whenever he needed a place to stay. Both him and Allison were pack and both had every right to be at the house.

"Just get in the house, Scott."

He went back to the living room and shut the TV off, taking the movie out. Scott lugged in two suitcases and went upstairs, leaving Allison with him.

"Did you decide she was too cute to give up?" Allison smiled down at the lump snoring softly on the couch.

"The sheriff had to work." Derek picked up the plastic bag on the floor and moved to the kitchen. He grabbed a cup of water and guzzled it down before moving around the kitchen. He wasn't avoiding Allison. No.

He was avoiding everyone. Laurel wasn't his to keep and it was ridiculous that everyone thought he was going to keep her.

Derek put away the clean dishes and wiped down the counters, getting the dried on syrup the pack missed that morning. He organized the fridge, taking out week old Chinese food. He moved boxes around in the cupboards and watered the plant that Lydia insisted the kitchen needed. Derek wasn't sure there was much else to do in the kitchen unless he wanted to sweep and mop.

Sighing, he moved back into the living room and found Allison to be gone. Being as gentle as possible, Derek picked laurel up and brought her upstairs, depositing her on his bed. He moved to the bathroom taking a quick shower and pulling on some shorts before slipping into bed. On the other side of laurel, he put extra pillows so she wouldn't roll off.

He wondered if that's what Laura had meant when she had said parental instincts.

As he laid there, unable to sleep, he thought about Stiles' drawings. He didn't understand what they meant or how Stiles knew about laurel before Derek even knew about her. None of it made sense and it bothered Derek for another hour, circulating around his head. He thought about all it's possible meanings before he thought that it was probably just Stiles wishing he had a better life. It hurt Derek to think that, but it was the only reasonable explanation. Stiles' subconscious wanted better things. He didn't want to be scared anymore. Derek felt better once he felt like he figured it out. Falling asleep with Stiles on his mind was normal, but something was different as he looked at Laurel before turning out his light and falling asleep thinking of Stiles caring for a small baby, cooing at a baby folded in his arms and teaching Laurel how to sing her ABCs.


	8. New Beginnings

A loud scream pulled Derek straight out of a dead sleep. Sitting up quickly, he searched the room with his eyes and didn't see anyone, but a harsh scream filled the room a second time making his ears ring painfully. He noticed almost immediately that Laurel was not beside him and his heart rate jumped.

"Laurel?" He yelled. "Where are you?"

It wasn't hard to pick out her heartbeat at it was loud and fast in the quiet room. Derek slowly worked his was off the bed and slid down to the floor, giving himself enough time to switch the light on before lifting up the bed sheet to peek under his mattress.

"Laurel?" Derek said her name, seeing her curled into a ball too far under the bed to reach. "Laurel." Derek said worryingly.

Laurel sobbed loudly, her body shaking with sadness. It almost hurt Derek physically to see her all alone and so sad. Her bottom lip was pulled down as tears poured down her red cheeks. He wasn't sure what to do as he watched her for a moment. He had no idea what she had gone through to have such a hard time. He couldn't imagine the horrors she had faced.

"Derek, what's wrong?" Scott opened the door with worry clear in his tired voice. "Why is she screaming?"

"I don't know. I'm trying to get her out."

"She's under the bed?" Allison came barging into the room with concern and knelt beside Derek to look for the noise.

Derek wanted to sigh and push them out, but he knew it wouldn't help any because they'd only worry from behind the door.

"Laurel, what are you doing, sweetie?" Allison said, kindly.

"He huwt me." She sobbed harder.

Derek held back a whimper, almost feeling her pain physically and emotionally as the room filled with it. She didn't move except for her body shaking with heavy sobs. Derek hadn't felt so emotionally pained since he had seen Stiles act almost the same way in the hospital all those months before.

"Laurel," Derek tried to be patient. "You have to come out. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe here, remember?"

When she didn't say anything back after a few minutes, Scott worked his way to the other side of the bed and laid down on the floor so he could look at her.

"Hey, Laurel, can I tell you this story? It's really funny. My friend Stiles, one time when we were little, he picked up a pet mouse in the store and was holding onto it. He's not very good with holding things because he dropped the mouse and instead of it running away like we thought, the mouse, it ran up Stiles' leg and he was squirming around like a worm trying to get it out. The person who worked there came from no where and started yelling and so Stiles was freaking out dancing around and the lady was yelling and I was laughing because of my friend. He's a giant goofball. He was making all these jokes."

Laurel had stopped crying when Scott was done telling his story softly to her, telling her about all the funny jokes Stiles had told him. She hiccuped and sniffled, but didn't move.

Scott had always had a healing ability on him that made others more comfortable. He had an air about him that people could sense without being conscious that he was helping. It often helped Derek when he was feeling particularly moody and Derek was grateful that it worked so well on Laurel.

"And then there was this other time that Stiles went to the park and he really liked this boy that was running. Stiles wanted to get this boy to notice him, so Stiles tried to run with him and it was so funny."

Derek listened to Scott's story, but he already knew what was going to happen since he had been there, had watched Stiles jog twenty steps before he said something too embarrassing and had begun to flail his limbs like a fool to find a way to make it sound better. He had thrown his balance off and went falling into a garden of flowers which had made Derek chuckle from the loud pained groan Stiles had let escape.

"Tew me 'nother stowy, Scott." Laurel whispered from her ball.

It went on for another twenty minutes. Scott told her many stories, all silly, fun ones and after awhile, she giggled softly and even climbed out from under the bed and into Derek's lap. Derek squished her closely to his chest and kissed the top of her head, happy that she had come out and had a small smile that replaced her sad pout.

Allison and Scott left the room quietly leaving the two alone on the floor. Derek looked at Scott and bowed his head in thanks and didn't wait for an acknowledgement from the beta before he lifted Laurel's chin so she was looking at him.

"What happened?" Derek asked her, brushing his thumb to wipe her drying tears.

She tried to jerk her head away and Derek let her slip her head from his hand, but kept her firmly in his lap. She curled gently into his chest and stayed absolutely still, barely even breathing except her hiccups every few moments.

Derek didn't offer any words to her, didn't know what to say to comfort her, but he held onto her and rubbed her back as they sat in silence.

It was obvious that the sun had come up sometime between when Derek was on the floor and when he looked up to see a streak of bright light stream over the floor. He didn't know how long they were on the floor, but he definitely knew it was time to get up and get moving when Laurel's stomach growled loudly.

Carefully standing up, he held onto her and made his way to the kitchen where an empty box of cereal laid open on the counter. A yellow sticky note was stuck to it from Scott apologizing for the mess, but explaining that they had to run because of an emergency at the vet clinic.

"Scott is buying the cereal next time." Derek scowled down at the last crumbs spread out across the counter.

Setting Laurel down on the floor, Derek wandered to the fridge and scanned the contents.

"Do you like omelets, Laurel?" Derek looked directly down at the tiny girl standing completely still where Derek had set her down.

She stared up at him with her giant, sad eyes and didn't say anything. He didn't sigh as he keeled down so he could look directly at her.

"Do you like eggs and cheese?" Derek asked again.

She shrugged and looked down at the floor.

"I don'know." She whispered.

"Well, let's give it a try. Do you want to help?"

Her head snapped to his and Derek couldn't help but smile at her because her eyes grew into saucers. Derek hadn't seen her act so much like a kid as she did in that moment.

"I think you can help." Derek scooped her up into his arms and almost regretted it when she tensed, but was glad he did when she relaxed and smiled at him, putting a hand on his cheek with a shy smile. "Grab the eggs." He walked her to the fridge.

He held onto her as she collected each of the supplies and set them on the counter. Once he had everything he needed, they washed their hands, and he set her down and smiled.

"Can you crack an egg?" Derek asked as he held one up.

She shook her head no and he demonstrated to her how to gently hit the egg and pull it apart with two hands. Derek handed her an egg and laughed when she hit the egg too hard, watching it splatter across the counter. Laurel immediately looked at Derek like she was scared.

"It's okay." He huffed a laugh. "It's fine. Try again. Hit it gently."

She hesitated grabbing the egg, but with a little more encouragement, she grabbed it and hit it more gentle, barely cracking it at all. She hit it a second and third time when Derek told her to and soon she had a cracking egg. With Derek's own egg, he showed her how to squeeze gently and pull the shell apart. Derek looked down at her with pride in his eyes when she pulled apart her egg and watched the inside fall into the bowl. A few small bits of shell fell into it, but they dug them out.

"Now you take the fork and crush the yolks." He handed her a fork.

She quickly went about stabbing them and stirred them all together when Derek told her, letting her splash some of the egg onto the counter. He told her to keep going as he heated the pan and quickly chopped up some meat and veggies to be thrown in.

Derek told her to stay put and mix more eggs as he went about making the omelets, too afraid to let her near the hot stove. Before he knew it, the two were seated in front of the tv eating.

"Tanks, Dewek!" She smiled up at him with a big toothed grin and cheesy eggs stuck to her face.

"You like them?"

"Yeah! Can we have some tomowow too?" She asked excitedly, jumping up and down in front of her plate on the coffee table.

He immediately remembered that she wasn't his and that he was going to have to let her leave at some point. Derek didn't want to break her heart, so he nodded and told her yes knowing it was wrong, but didn't have the guts to break her heart.

She smiled and jumped up and down more before turning around to watch Sofia the Princess and devoured more of her eggs.

Lydia came by after a few hours of cartoons. She dropped off some groceries in the kitchen and brought a few presents for Laurel who Derek left with Lydia as he went upstairs for a shower.

It didn't take long for Derek's brain to wander back to Stiles. It was almost as if a piece of himself was missing as the boy wasn't near him. It made Derek uneasy as he stood in the shower, staring at the wall. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know why he was so uneasy, but he knew he wanted Stiles beside him. He had never felt like a piece of him was missing with anyone else, but without Stiles, he didn't feel whole. His body felt cold even when the water was burning his skin.

It was hard to think of life without the boy and the more he thought, the more he realized that Stiles had been an almost constant in his life. Stiles had been there to laugh and criticize him, call him on his bullshit plans and never had a problem speaking his mind fully to Derek, throwing his opinions without regret even when Derek threatened and pushed him around. No one stood up to Derek the way Stiles did. It was something Derek had liked about Stiles even though it was the most annoying thing.

But it filled Derek's time, brought a smile to Derek's face each time Stiles yelled or used sarcasm on him. Sure, it pissed Derek off, some of the mouthiness, but everything he said was true after Derek finally moved past his stubbornness.

As Derek made his way out of the shower, he pushed his thoughts from Stiles. It hurt to think about him. Seeing Stiles outside of the hospital was amazing and it made Derek nostalgic of the past, of when Stiles wasn't afraid to be loud and sassy. Derek loved Stiles when he was sassy, crazy and spastic. Derek loved Stiles in general, with or without his craziness.

"Hey, Lydia," Derek called from the top of the stairs. "Is my phone down there?"

"Just a second, Mr. Stilinski," Lydia said quietly as she came into view at the end of the stairs.

Derek frowned at her, wondering why she was speaking with him.

"I'll make sure he's down there. I understand. I won't-Okay."

"What's wrong?" Derek watched as she hung up the phone with a sour expression.

"Mr. Stilinski wants to know if you'll meet him down at the hospital. The doctor needs to speak with him and he thinks you'll want to be there."

"When?" Derek immediately slips his shirt on quickly over his wet back, running back to his room to get his keys and wallet after she told him as soon as possible.

Putting on his jacket, he ran down the stairs, panicked and forgetting what he needed to do.

"Laurel," he crouched in front of her, barely staying calm in order to speak with her. "Can you put your shoes on?"

"I wear my 'jamas?" She said sleepily to him, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with fists.

"That's fine. We have to go, so could you please put your shoes on for me?"

"What's wong?" Her eyebrows scrunched in concern.

"We have to go see the sheriff. I don't know if there's anything wrong." He didn't want to lie to her.

She grabbed Derek's hand when he offered and slipped off the couch, a scared expression covering her face. Derek squeezed Lydia's shoulder on his way past her, thanking her for being there. She took his hand and set his phone in it, giving him a nod knowing that he would update her about what was going on later.

Derek loved his pack. He liked that they didn't need words to communicate and especially loved that he didn't need to explain himself. As a kid, he remembered being great with words, was the smoothest talker. He was a cocky brat, always being smart with everyone like he was the best. Words weren't difficult for him then. But somewhere between then and the time he was completely alone, no family or even Laura at that point, he lost his words. He couldn't speak what he was feeling, always confused. Derek's words became complicated when he tried to speak, always getting twisted around, always getting said wrong.

But his pack, they understood. He could tell by the way they moved, the smallest twitch what they were thinking about. He didn't need to even figure it out. Derek could just tell what they wanted, what was being said by them without having to verbally tell him. It was the same for them.

Somewhere between the alpha pack and a few years later, it was just as easy for them to tell what Derek wanted just as easy as it was for him see what they wanted. None of his pack were afraid of him, sometimes even straight up laughing at him when he got angry.

At first, when he finally realized they weren't afraid of him, realized they actually liked him and that they weren't leaving him, he got scared. Derek pushed himself away, found a way to hide from them all. He never knew why he hid from them, but he couldn't stand to be near them. Maybe it was that someone actually loved him again. Maybe he was scared he'd get them killed. He was glad he stuck around though because he didn't want to know what he'd be doing if he had left them all for good.

He got to the hospital as quickly as possible only running two stop signs and cutting off one person, pulling into a spot before barely remembering to put his car into park before ripping Laurel out and walking, almost jogging, into the building.

"What's wrong?" Derek burst through the door and saw Stiles and the Sheriff sitting down.

"Take a seat, Derek, please." Kevin smiled.

Derek hesitated in the doorway, but saw that Stiles was fine and slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat back in the chair letting Laurel lay her head on his chest.

"Go on, John. Tell Derek what you were thinking. Unless you want me or Stiles to."

"Derek," the sheriff looked at him and at Stiles. "We were all discussing how well Stiles was at your house and we think it would be best if.." The sheriff stopped and sighed, holding his forehead like it was too difficult to continue.

"I want to stay at your house." Stiles spoke up.

Derek took a moment to process what he was just told. He looked at Stiles who stared back, looking more nervous by the minute.

"What?" Derek blinked.

"If you want me to. I mean, it is your house and everything, but I just, I feel safer there and it's nice. Someone's always there so I don't have to be alone like I would be at dads when he has to go to work and it's not like I can't help out. I can cook and clean and take care of Laurel. I've been around kids before. I can entertain her if you want to get work done and I'll stay out of your way-"

Derek cut Stiles off, not wanting to listen to him nervously ramble any longer.

"Of course you can stay at the house. It's the pack house for everyone. John, you're welcome, too."

"Well, another thing we were discussing Derek was your relationship with Stiles. He told us you were intimate before the whole situation arose." Kevin said it like it was a sentence, but had a hint of question at the end.

"Yes, for a year and a half." Derek scowled wondering what he was getting at.

Derek eyed the sheriff who didn't at all look surprised by what he said. Derek wondered if the sheriff knew about their relationship at the time or if this was his first time hearing about it.

"Now, I'm looking out for Stiles as someone whose health I care deeply about and I just want to know if you're going to take care of him and be with him. Stiles had told me so many things about you and he does have feelings for you, Derek."

Derek blinked at Kevin and raised his shoulders. "And?"

"And I want to know, and they probably do as well, are you already or are you going to be in a relationship with Stiles? Stiles is unclear what your relationship is and we just need to clear this up, I believe before he can decide where he's going to be staying."

"Well, I.." Derek didn't know what to say.

Derek looked at Stiles who tapped the chair as he waited. Stiles licked his lips nervously and glanced up from the floor at Derek's eyes for a second before looking down again like he was avoiding disappointment.

"Could I speak with Stiles alone for a moment?" Derek asked.

"Of course. John and I can wait outside until you're done discussing this."

John hesitated getting up, but he did after Kevin opened the door and left.

"I'll be right out here, Stiles." He said before closing the door.

Stiles took a deep breath and met Derek's gaze.

"So," Stiles filled the silence that surrounded them.

"Do you want a relationship again? Because, Stiles, this is up to you."

"You're a part of this decision, Derek. It isn't just me in this." Stiles spoke gently as if he didn't want to speak against Derek's words.

"You know there isn't anyone else and you've known since we were together the first time that you're it for me; you're my mate. So, it is up to you whether or not you want to be with me."

Derek wasn't sure if Stiles knew that, he wasn't sure if he even knew that before that point, but he said it and meant it, not for one second feeling like it was a mistake.

"I think..." Stiles waited a moment like he was thinking. "I don't know. I'm... I'm scared." He whispered into his lap.

"There's nothing to be scared of. You know me, Stiles."

"But so much has happened. I don't know if I can do this."

"I won't hurt you, you know that." Derek shifted Laurel who had fallen asleep on him.

"Can, would we, I just want to know, can we go slow? Like, really slow? I'm just, this is scary and I think I'm going to have a panic attack." Stiles started hyperventilating, curling into himself.

"Hey, Stiles. Stiles, breathe. It's okay." Derek set Laurel down in his chair and scrambled to crouch in front of Stiles. "Just breathe, Stiles."

"I just can't forget, Derek." Stiles sobbed between his big breaths. "I can't. I can't do it. I try, but it's always there, what he did. I've tried to work on this, to forget, but it's just, I can't."

"Stiles, you don't have to do anything. This is all you. You have all the power here. Don't think about the past. Be here now."

"It's not that easy. I can't."

"You can. You're strong." Derek risked Stiles' panic by putting his hand on his leg. "You've always been there for us, every single one of the pack. You've saved my life more times that I can count. You've been possessed and managed to bounce back from that. You've almost died more times than I can count and yet here you sit. You're here and alive. You can do anything."

Stiles took a shaky breath, bringing his teared eyes up to meet Derek's. He laid his hand over Derek's and smiled the smallest smile.

"For someone who's so shitty with words, that was pretty cheesy." Stiles huffed a laugh.

"Well, it's the truth." Derek smiled and squeezed his leg.

Stiles took eight deep breaths before smiling at Derek. They stared at each other for what felt like only a few seconds, but also a lifetime. Laurel made a squeak in her sleep. Derek drew his eyes to her to watch her shuffle around in the chair before going back to sleep. Derek looked back at Stiles who stared at the small girl curled in the seat.

"She's cute." Stiles stated.

"She's sweet, too. And pretty smart for being three."

"Do you think you'll be able to let someone adopt her?" Stiles looked back at Derek.

It took Derek a long stare at Laurel and several seconds before he smiled and turned back. Stiles' eyes shifted back and forth trying to tell what Derek was thinking.

"I'm not sure. It's..." Derek struggled to find the feelings he felt for the girl.

It was hard because his feelings, they weren't explainable. It was like an instant connection that he got. He had always liked small children, getting along with them better than most adults. They were just so easy to be around and even though he panicked about what to do a lot, he knows what Laura had said about the instincts.

"It's a werewolf thing, I think. If it helps, I think you should keep her." Stiles said, quickly followed by,"I mean, it's your decision obviously, but you're so cute with her and you take really good care of her and I just think you should think about it. No one would be a better parent than you. Wow. Derek Hale, the scowling leather jacket stalker being a parent. Weird."

"Oh, that's what you really think of me?" Derek smiled at him and looked back Laurel. "You think so, about her? I should keep her? You're plans are better than mine."

Stiles took a moment to answer, but nodded. "I think you'd be perfect for each other."

"Think you'd be able to help me? It's not like raising a dog. This is a kid."

"You really want me to help you? I'm awkward and am barely any help."

"You tell some of the best stories I've heard and you can cook. I can't do that."

"Well, at least you know what time to go to bed."

"You remember to go grocery shopping."

"You remember to do laundry and check under the bed for loose socks."

Derek smiled his sparkling teeth at Stiles.

"We fall right into the domestic family already. Listen to us." Derek laughed and shook his head.

Stiles let his smile fall as he licked his lips and looked into Derek's green eyes.

"What?" Derek asked as the serious look from the boy started to scare him.

"I want to kiss you." Stiles whispered so quietly Derek almost missed it.

"Do it." Derek whispered back, leaning toward him.

"I'm scared."

"Don't be. I won't hurt you. I promise you I won't."

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded once before leaning toward Derek. When their lips met, neither moved right away. Soon, Stiles got the courage to move his lips, Derek following after him. Derek didn't do anything without Stiles doing it first. Every move was up to the younger man. Derek gave his control away, trusting Stiles with every choice.

Stiles put his legs on either side of Derek's body, wrapping his arms around his neck. Derek leaned toward Stiles, letting him sit back in the chair. Stiles had to pull away for a moment to get air, breathing fast against Derek's cheek as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Slow?" Stiles breathed out.

"Slow." Derek agreed, finally moving his hands to Stiles' sides apologizing when Stiles tensed.

Soon after, Kevin and John entered the room finding Derek's head leaning into Stiles' chest as he kneeled between his legs. Stiles ran his fingers up and down the top part of his back.

"So, you've discussed things, I see." Kevin sat down in his seat.

"I've been waiting almost eight years for this. The two of them have been dancing around each other since the moment I saw the two in the same area together."

"Dad," Stiles complained. "Please."

"What? You're just like your mother in that way: very obvious."

Derek moved back to his seat letting Laurel fall back against his chest. She began to move as she woke up, whining as she came back from her dreams. Derek rubbed her back to calm her, not really paying attention to what the others were talking about.

As Derek was putting Laurel back into his car, John came up behind him and began talking.

"I have to finish the papers to put her into the foster care system tomorrow morning. She most likely won't have a much better life than what she had." He sighed.

Derek finished buckling her seat, took a breath before smiling at her and getting out to look at John.

"I can hold onto her until you find her somewhere permanent." Derek ran a hand through his hair knowing what a bad idea it was keeping her for longer than he has. He was already so fond of her even after two days.

"It doesn't really work like that. I've already found her a foster house that will take her. I just have to sign the last papers."

"Well, I don't know..." Derek looked back into the car. "She's been through a lot. I don't think she'll like new people. She won't be used to them."

"She doesn't get a choice unfortunately. Not everyone can be born into a great life. The little girl is strong. She'll make it." The sheriff spoke as if he didn't want to say the words, but was forced to.

Derek sighed and smiled back at Laurel who waved and kicked her feet humming to the song on the radio, oblivious to what the future held for her.

Derek couldn't help but think about the terrible past she had, about her mother dying from an overdose and her dad being locked away for attempted murder, domestic abuse, child abuse, and the possession of illegal drugs. She had dealt with more physical harm than good and Derek had been without a family for years and even though she wasn't his blood, he still wanted his own family. Pack was family, but he also wanted the good wife or husband with a lot of children. He was getting older and it wasn't like there was much supernatural activity around. His life finally settled down enough to really think about starting his own family.

With one last look at Laurel, Derek turned to the sheriff. 

"How do I get adoption papers?"

John smiled the biggest grin and pulled Derek in for a hug thanking him for taking her, telling him he knew Derek would be a great father and would he much better than anywhere else she could go.

John leaned into the car, smiling at Laurel who looked curiously up at the man.

"How do you like the idea of Derek being your new dad?" John asked her.

Laurel gasped and stared with big, wide eyes that reminded Derek of a gold fish. She was silent for so long, Derek thought she was going to burst into tears, which she did, and say no, but she surprised him by sobbing without saying a word. She nodded at John with a furious nod that made Derek's head hurt from just watching.

When she finally calmed down, she told the sheriff about how he let her cook eggs and let her watch movies and he even bought her pretty clothes to wear and she loved him because her other daddy was mean and only hurt her. She spoke about how much better Derek was and how she was okay with calling him daddy as long as she didn't have to go back.

Derek was surprised by the girl, even though she was three, she seemed okay with having Derek take care of her as the sheriff explained that Derek would keep her forever and would be there for her no matter what.

She smiled and said she would love to have him as her daddy.

The sheriff exited the car and smiled at Derek.

"Congratulations, new dad. I'll get the papers and you'll need to bring some paperwork to make sure you're not illegal and all that other fun stuff. But, if all works well because I know you won't have any trouble, you will have her as your daughter permanently in as little as six months. I'll try to get this to move as fast as possible for you. It will take time, but since she is in the foster system now and seeing as she has no other living relatives, I'd say you have a pretty high chance of getting the official documents much sooner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two ways the next chapter can go. Do you want Stiles POV or stick with Derek? Because either way, I have something planned. Maybe I should do Derek now, and Stiles next chapter? Or should I split the chapter and do Derek first and then Stiles? Help me..


	9. Timing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not much, but I figured you guys would want something after months of nothing at all. So, here it is. This short little poop I've been working on since august. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Derek was nervous, complete with fidgeting and constant moving around, about Stiles spending the entire weekend with the pack. As much as he was scared of Stiles staying over for the one night, an entire weekend was different. He cleaned every surface, no help from the pack sitting on their asses, hoping Stiles didn't think it was too messy.

Derek had never cared about people’s opinions, but his mother had been the same way even though his parents had been married for years; she still liked to clean and make sure everything was perfect for his father. Derek wasn't sure if he was like his mother in that he wanted things to be perfect for Stiles or if he was just losing his mind. Maybe it was both.

Derek tried to sit down and watch TV with Laurel, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sit down. He had to move, to make sure Stiles was going to be comfortable with him.

The pack was back from their own lives and it only made it harder on Derek. He continuously snapped at his pack members. He didn't want to, but he was so on edge trying to make things good enough for Stiles, he didn't know what he was doing. Derek was thankful everyone liked Laurel because he could barely think straight as his mind spun.

The sheriff told Derek not to worry too much, that he would drop Stiles off. Derek couldn't express his concern to the sheriff, but with one look at Derek, John knew the younger man was freaking out.

"Don't worry, Derek. Stiles will be fine. It's obviously an adjustment, but he trusts you." John told him before leaving with a supportive shoulder sqeeze.

Erica tried to make a joke about how pathetic and crazy Derek looked, but with one growl and a flash of his eyes, she stopped and left him alone.

Derek knew he shouldn't be mean to his pack, but all he could do was think about Stiles, think about how things were changed for the two of them. Relationships had always been hard for him and it was only until the recent years that Derek even trusted his pack.

"Hey, Derek," Isaac walked into the kitchen where Derek paced back and forth looking for something to do. "Laurel won't say anything, but her stomach is growling like a hyena."

"Great, I'll make her a sandwich."

Derek automatically went about doing so to keep his hands busy and his mind sort of calmed. Isaac didn't leave the kitchen, instead watched Derek for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Isaac asked with serious concern in his voice, watching Derek’s hands shake which was uncharacteristic about his alpha. “You’re so… you’re shaking and it’s kind of freaking us all out with you snapping at us.”

Derek knew better than to lie and he knew that they could tell he wasn't okay.

"I'll feel better once Stiles is here." Derek said into the peanut butter jar, trying to scrape every little bit out.

Isaac hummed and left the kitchen to let Derek finish his distractions. Derek cut the crust off the sandwich and put some grapes on the plate before going to Laurel.

"Hey, Laurel, I made you a sandwich." Derek say down beside her on the floor.

Erica had given the girl play dough and even though it was leaving terrible grease marks on the glass coffee table, Laurel enjoyed every second she got to smash and mold it in her tiny hands.

Laurel looked at Derek and quickly back down at her hands.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Derek put his hand on her back, trying not to move away when she flinched.

When she didn't say anything, standing very still, Derek asked again. She was hesitating obviously, but she looked back up at Derek.

"You'w sad."

Derek scowled and looked at her for a moment.

"Why do you say that, sweetie?" Lydia asked from her spot on the couch behind them.

"Becauwd he not happy. Id it becauwd of me?"

"Oh, no, Laurel. Not at all. You're perfect. I'm not sad, I'm just," Derek thought for a moment. He still wasn't too great with feelings, but for a child, he could tell her. He trusted her. "I'm nervous."

"Whas nervous?"

"Nervous is like when you get butterflies in your tummy," Derek told her, pulling her into his lap. "Your heart goes boom so fast and you feel sick."

"I nervous, too, den." Laurel looked up at Derek.

"Why are you nervous?"

"Stiwes is coming an he gonna need you but he won'like me an he wull take all of you time ." Laurel looked at her hands, her lip wobbling ever so slightly.

"Oh, Stiles likes you fine. I promise he'll like you. And he likes play dough, too. So maybe he can play with you."

"You tink so?"

"I think so." Derek smiled at her.

Derek heard a car pulling up, knowing that it was time for Stiles' arrival. He let Laurel climb out of his lap and stood up, brushing imaginary dirt from his pants. He took a deep breath and left the living room ready to let Stiles enter.

~~~~~~~Stiles' POV~~~~~~~

Stiles took several deep breaths before opening the car door. His father had grabbed his bags for him and together they walked up the stairs and Derek was immediately there opening the door, startling Stiles, making his heart pound faster, if it were possible. It already felt like he was going to pass out or work himself into a panic attack at any moment.

"Sorry," Derek apologized quickly. "Let me take those." Derek grabbed the bags from his dad.

Stiles looked behind him, out into the woods, feeling like there was someone out there. The hairs on his neck stood up and he ignored what everyone was saying to him as he listened out into the open area.

"Stiles," his dad yelled, making him jump and turn to him.

"It's just Boyd." Derek told him. "He's taking a walk, waiting for Erica to get back. Come in."

Stiles could tell Derek was freaking out. He watched Derek shift uncomfortably, moving more awkwardly than he usually did. It wasn't a big difference, but Sties notices the smallest changes. Stiles looked around the house when he first stepped in, looking toward the kitchen first and then into the living room where Lydia sat curled up with her computer and Laurel eating away as she watched some kind of odd cartoon show.

"Stiles," his dad brought his attention back to him. "I just need to go to the station and grab some things, but I'll be back in an hour or two."

Stiles nodded and hugged his dad, letting the smell of his father comfort him from the overwhelming feeling filling his chest, his stomach tightening into knots.

Stiles let his dad leave as he stood quietly in the foyer. The house was quiet except for the TV. It was new to him, being where it was so quiet. He was used to footsteps and rolling carts, peoples yelling and all sorts of noise. Stiles immediately got lost in his thoughts, letting one thing flip through his mind before something else popped up.

When he looked around again, Derek stood in front of him, scaring him to death and making him jump.

"You still know how to scare the crap out of me." Stiles tried to calm his racing heart.

Derek didn't say anything, just stood and stared at him. Stiles stared back until Derek's gaze became overwhelming and he had to look away, almost flinching at the uncomfortable stare. He could feel Derek's eyes shift over him, taking in every part of his body. It made Stiles feel even more uncomfortable. His skin crawled and he couldn't stop the shiver that came over him.

"Are you hungry?" Derek spoke, his voice soft, but loud in the quiet.

Stiles had to think for a long time, not sure if he was hungry or not. He knew he had eaten an egg and toast with jelly on it for breakfast, but he knew that wasn't enough, could hear the nurses voice encouraging to eat more.

"I- I'm not starving, but a snack would be nice, I think." Stiles licked his lips, wanting to squirm under Derek's stare.

"Do you still like fries or do you want fruit? I have fresh strawberries Lydia bought."

"Uhh, strawberries sound fine." Stiles stood awkwardly, watching Derek to see if he'd move, but he just watched Stiles.

Finally Derek smiled a huge smile and set Stiles' bags down by the stairs and walked away to the kitchen. Stiles could tell how happy Derek was he was there. Stiles was happy too and seeing the sparkling in Derek’s eyes and the soft pull of his lips made his heart settle ever so slightly, letting his chest loosen.

"Hey, Stiles. Come see what I bought." Lydia's sweet voice came tumbling into Stiles' mind.

Stiles took a quick look around him and then slowly made his way to the living room seeing Laurel at the coffee table and Lydia typing away on her computer about god knew what. He waved at Laurel who smiled up at him and poked at her sandwich, her tiny fingers leaving indents in the soft bread. Stiles sat on the other end of the couch away from Lydia, not interested in being too close to her.

Stiles didn’t mean to flinch when Lydia moved closer to him, but she didn’t seem to mind as she flopped down next to him, moving the laptop onto his lap and putting her head onto his shoulder.

“I found this beautifully crafted princess bedroom set for Laurel. Its hand carved, solid wood. The bed is shaped like a carriage and it’s lifted off the ground, so underneath is a little place she can play under.”

Stiles stared down at the pictures on the screen as Lydia flipped through them. The set was beautiful, all pink and white like a true princess’ room and it was definitely unique, nothing like anything he’d ever seen. Everything had carved, swirling patterns which would’ve taken forever if someone was carving it by hand. Stiles didn’t know what to say.

“It’s nice.” He said to her.

She nodded and smiled knowing she did good and moved away from him, sliding back to the other end of the couch.

Stiles looked up at the TV and had no idea what was on. He had never seen the show before, but he knew that the girl on the TV was wearing a doctor’s outfit and she was chatting with her stuffed animals. It was actually something that sucked Stiles into the TV, making him zone out for a moment. That was when Derek walked in, walking behind the couch to Stiles’ side, making Stiles jump and hold onto his chest.

“Oh my God, will you all stop doing that?” Stiles whispered to himself.

“Sorry,” Derek shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “Strawberries?”

Stiles stared at Derek for a minute, not breaking eye contact until it became too uncomfortable and he nodded and took the bowl with a small thanks.

He felt extremely uncomfortable in his own skin, feeling Derek’s gaze run over him every minute or so, the quiet of the room not helping the thoughts running through his head, Lydia touching him and pushing his arm as she types away on her keyboard. Stiles squirmed on the couch, accidently kicking Derek’s leg from where he sat next to him on the couch. He instantly jerked his foot away, apologizing to him.

It was quiet in the house. No one said anything or moved much. Stiles tried to focus on the TV, but TV had never really kept his attention for more than a few moments unless it was an interesting movie with no commercials.

Stiles couldn’t help but start to fidget. The room felt tense and it grew under Stiles’ skin, making him feel even more uncomfortable and bored. He licked his lips and tried to ignore Derek next to him. He tried not to wiggle around too much, but finally the thoughts became unbearable and he stood, knocking Derek’s leg onto the floor.

I think I’m going to take a bath, if that’s okay.” Stiles watched his hands as he spoke.

“Sure, yeah.” Derek stood up, a little too close to Stiles, the space between them just a few short inches. “Do you need any-“

“No,” Stiles shook his head. “I think I can do it.”

The silence of the room was awkward at best. Lydia looked between the two men and Stiles could feel the stares of all three people in the room, Laurel looking up at him from next to his feet.

“Okay.” Derek finally said with a short nod.

Derek moved out of the way and even as Stiles walked to the stairs and picked up one of his bags, he could still feel his gaze.

It was a relief when Stiles finally escaped around the corner and up the stairs. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt so unnerved being there. Everything made him feel like it skin was going to peel off, like he couldn’t disappear, but a piece of his body was falling away for everyone to see other parts of him. The quiet didn’t give Stiles enough things to think about.

Stiles took a deep breath as he entered Derek’s bathroom, thankful for the Jacuzzi waiting for him to sink into. He drew the water, finding lavender bubble bath under the sink, smiling as he pictured Derek taking a bubble bath. It didn't take long for him to sink into the hot water, burning him just a small amount as he relaxed into the water, letting it surround his body, hugging him and dragging him further into it.

As much as he loved being around people he trusted, it was awkward. The air was tense and felt like it was going to reach over and choke him. It was nice to be a little free from their stares and careful movements to do what he wanted, his friends, his pack, wasn't making it easy for him to relax, all of them worrying over him, the fussing and the stilted conversation just didn't make him comfortable at all. Stiles just wanted his pack to open their arms and let things go to as normal as possible. He would never learn to sew himself back into their lives if everyone didn't act as normal as possible. Stiles was hoping they would act normal, but so far, no luck. They were all changing their lives around for him.

Other than everyone acting so strangely, Stiles loved that he was finally out of the hospital because he was ready to try and live free of doctors telling him what was okay and what was to be avoided. Even though it would be hard for him to step outside his comfort zone, his nice cozy bubble that was created to make him comfortable with living, Stiles was relieved to start his life up again instead of avoiding it. He had spent hours talking about it with his psychiatrist and he's dealt with hundreds of fucked up things, creatures of the night, monsters of all sorts, and yet he was stopping his life because of one person.

And no matter how dead he was, he still haunted Stiles, left him unable to breathe or move for days, still however many months later. He had finally, after a lot of talking and encouragement from everyone, Stiles started to believe in himself, even if only in small steps. He just needed to do things one at a time, like crawling to walking to running.

Stiles finally felt the smallest pang of hope that he prayed would continue to grow because if he was going to be afraid to tell his pack things, if he was going to be afraid of everyone forever, he knew nothing would get back to normal or as normal as they could get. He just wanted to live no matter how hard it was going to be for him, even though he knew it would take time and patience, probably more than he had. It would be one of the hardest things he had ever done, but it would be worth it to him. Stiles missed his pack, missed seeing his dad, missed worrying if he was eating the right foods. Stiles just wanted it all to disappear and live again. He wanted his life back and he'd do whatever it took to get it back.

The smell of the lavender mixed with the warmth that surrounded him, caressed his skin, and easily took him under, taking him straight into a dream-filled nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need your guy's help. You need to remind me every week to write. I've been having a really hard time being inspired enough to continue and I know you like this, so I do really want to go forth with finishing even though it won't be for awhile.
> 
> If you have things that inspire you to do something that's hard, leave a comment. I want to know what you do. And every week drop into my tumblr CreatingSterek to tell me to write. I really need a push.
> 
> Thank you for reading and waiting patiently. It means a lot.


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